Hello My name is Imp
by Asher Tye
Summary: While on leave from conquest, Hordak comes across a strange creature living on Hordeworld. Basically one of my takes on how Imp and Hordak first met. Guess what's no longer on hiatus?
1. Chapter 1

Hello My name is Imp

By Asher Tye

Disclaimer: I own not She-Ra, I own not He-Man, I own not the Horde, Hordak, Imp or any of the easily recognized characters. They are not mine and are being used without permission for the purposes of non-profit entertainment.

Author's note: Here it is, one of the many ways I could see Hordak and Imp meeting. I actually have two other scenarios, but I must confess this to be my favorite as it actually falls into the category of a heartwarming Horde story.

Caution: This story flips between two points of view so it might become a little difficult to tell when you're looking at the world through the eyes of Hordak or of Imp.

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A nasty storm had enveloped the Fright Zone, adding to the dreary and unfriendly atmosphere of the Horde stronghold on Etheria. Every so often lightning would strike and illuminate the entire city, reflected off the millions of raindrops that were steadily falling in an almost unbroken sheet of water. It was for this reason that everyone in the Fright Zone who did not have business that required them to go outside was staying inside, with the notable exception of Leech who actually enjoyed the drenching amounts of water falling on him. Those that did have business were busy finding one subordinate or another they could delegate it to.

Inside Malevolence Tower, the inner sanctum wherein the more senior members of the Horde lived, the commanders of Etheria's Horde, with a few exceptions, had sequestered themselves in their own "private" sections of the tower to do whatever it was that villains did to keep themselves from being bored. Shadowweaver, unfazed by the rain thanks to her magic, had taken advantage of the others' temporary imprisonment to go to Horror Hall and work without being bothered by one inane question after another. Mantenna, displaying an uncharacteristic amount of foresight, had foreseen the storm and opted to avoid it by going to his castle, where, if the computer reports were right, he was currently experiencing sunny days with a cool breeze. Perhaps the most prominent absence, though, was that of the Horde General; Hordak, who had been forced to take a trip to a different part of Etheria to stop the formation of a Rebellion cell. Unfortunately, this had been a trip he'd taken without his trusted companion, Imp.

The Hordesman in question was currently sitting in a very dark and somewhat cramped space inside the ventilation system that ran through the tower, setting up what he privately referred to as Good Nest #139, so named because it was the one hundred and thirty-ninth such nest he had created. The reason he had so many was because the ventilation system was so vast and mazelike that Imp was not often able to remember where the other nests were once he left them. Good Nest #1 was, of course, the small closet/room he held near the heart of Malevolence Tower where he lived, slept, and basically did whatever he wanted. But, every so often, the young boy found the urge to be somewhere no one would be able to find him. Maybe it was for protection, maybe it was for privacy, maybe imps were simply nomadic and this was instinct; the pig-faced monster had never really thought to question the behavior. Hordak allowed it because it served a practical purpose. As long as the other Hordesmen knew Imp was running free in the vents, they were a lot less bold in any treacherous plans they might make to unseat Hordak.

The sound of thunder rang through the tower and for a brief moment Imp stopped in his work and listened to the sound of the rain as it struck the metal shell of the tower. He loved the rain, in spite of himself. Not being out in it mind you; wet wings didn't fly so well and he'd have been bogged down in no time if he tried to move through it. No, what Imp loved about the rain was to listen to it, to the steady sound it made as it struck surfaces and slid down. Even inside the walls of the tower, Imp's sensitive ears could pick up the rhythmic vibrations. His yellow eyes closed as he slowly remembered…

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His body was quivering. Not from the cold of the night air, though that might have been a factor for anyone else, but from the sight and smell that lay before him. A massive dumpster sat half-filled with aromatic goodies that were at least a full month old, though the cooling weather would have slowed down to decaying process. The child knew this because he had been coming to this dumpster to eat nightly for about three weeks and, unlike the many other dumpsters he had visited in his short life, this one had yet to be emptied by the awful men in white. This, of course, meant that he was able find much more suitably rotten foodstuffs here than anywhere else, and that was the way he liked it.

The "child" was actually a rather interesting curiosity. Anyone who looked at him might have easily mistaken him for some form of animal, particularly given the more ethnocentric atmosphere present on Hordeworld. Smooth, light-blue skin covered a small, almost doll-size body that stood upright on two feet that ended in dark-blue hooves. Three clawless fingers on each hand dexterously reached into the open dumpster and scrapped some of the greasy scum from the side, depositing the filth in a small mouth framed by two sharp looking fangs that glistened in the light of the moon like polished ivory. The fangs extended out of an upper jaw that had actually merged with the bottom of a small snout that vaguely resembled a pig's. Large, gleeful eyes blinked in delight at the noxious taste that filled his mouth while the even larger bat-like ears that framed his head twitched and turned as they made sure nothing was sneaking up on their owner. Between the ears a puff of messy, dark-blue hair can be seen, greasy and tangled from being unkempt. Perhaps the oddest thing about the creature, though, was the third pair of limbs that extended from his back in the form of dark-blue leathery wings which allowed him to fly. Had anyone bothered to ask what he was, even he would have been hard pressed to answer. Still, somewhere in the back of his mind, a single word always appeared to answer for him; Imp.

Eagerly Imp dove into the dumpster, loving it as the sludge began to coat his torn shirt and pants as he dug away with a fervor that suggested great hunger. In truth, it was more greed, as the eight-year old monster had never actually gone hungry a day in his life. The great city/planet of Hordeworld was home to billions of people, and such a dense population of sentients generated tons of decaying and rotting garbage each day, no matter how efficient the sanitation workers were. For a creature like Imp, even being homeless meant nothing when such an ample amount of sustenance was present, particularly since he had discovered he was able to just commandeer already made nests by kicking out or killing the wingrats that infested the city.

The only real problem for Imp had been the men in white who came periodically to empty out the dumpsters from which he ate. It seemed like every three days of so he was forced to leave his current nest because they and their giant trash-eating machine had sucked everything out of the dumpsters in the surrounding area. Once the boy had tried to fight them, not really wanting to leave the rather nice nest he'd stolen at the time. He'd mistakenly seen them as being just another obstacle, like a large wingrat, that he could either terrify into leaving him alone or kill. He'd dived and snapped at them, yelling at the workers to leave or be killed. Unsure of what he was, the garbage men had left rather than attract what could have been a swarm of the little monstrosities. Imp had been justifiably proud and had spent the better part of the day glutting and wallowing in what he now considered to be his private dumpster. That had been a huge mistake as only an hour before sundown, the sanitation workers returned, with two Horde Troopers in tow. Stomach full and caught off guard, Imp had barely escaped, especially when a stun blast skimmed his wing and nearly knocked him from the sky. It had taken the rest of that night, the next one, and day in between for his wing to regain feeling, and in that time the workers had done their thing and all the dumpsters were emptied completely. It was a very sad Imp who'd been forced to abandon that nest.

That was why this dumpster seemed so special to him. The blue monsterling had been feeding from it for almost three weeks now and the men in white had not shown up in all that time. It had been so good that Imp had actually been able to make his nest homier, and he was looking forward to spending as much time in the area as he could.

Imp's eyes widened as his hand gripped something greasy and familiar. He smiled as he pulled up a blackened banana peel, shoving the yummy morsel into his mouth.

#_Life doesn't get any better than this,#_ he thought. That was when he heard a loud clanging crash as his whole world went black.

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Hordak liked being on Hordeworld. Though he would never give up the freedom and adventure being the absolute commander of the Horde's outer space conquest afforded him, he had to admit there was no place in the universe quite like home. Everywhere else he was largely loathed and feared; here he was a beloved hero of the citizenry, the conquering general whose talents, coupled with his elder brother's unmatched power and skill, allowed the empire to continuously expand across the galaxy. And this was the reason he enjoyed being on Hordeworld, it was the one place in the entire universe he could freely move without the need for a group of soldiers at his side. There were no screams of terror, no threats or shouts of defiance, simply the citizens who walked by, their lives enriched by being part of the life of greatness that was Hordak.

And that was his job; to be there to encounter, to be the visible face of the Horde dynasty. Horde Prime ruled over everything, the supreme and imposing presence who no one, not even Hordak himself, could stare upon without feeling an overwhelming fear boil up in their very souls. It was impossible for Horde Prime to even seem approachable, which in turn made it very difficult for him to inspire anything in those he ruled but fear. And while fear was definitely a useful emotion to keep the rabble in line, those on whom it was especially effective were rarely the type you could use to any greatness in a war against the universe. But then there was Hordak, the approachable one, the visible one, the one you didn't always have to fear even if it was for the sole reason that there was someone more powerful than him. If you could prove yourself, if you could shine, Hordak would listen and he would decide, and if he saw you shine too, you could go very far in the Horde. And that was the great dream of Hordeworld.

As Hordak moved through the twilight of the darkening streets, he kept an eye out for anything that had changed since he'd last been here three years ago. Hordeworld was a world in a constant state of flux, partly because the citizens were always importing and appropriating some idea from a recently conquered world, but mostly due to Horde Prime's need to be surrounded by activity, the feel that his world was changing from his efforts. Hordak's eyes darted to the side as he noticed a pair of urchins watching him in awe from the safety of an alley. From the look of them, they were both in their mid-teens and both looked fairly strong. Hordak made a mental note to send a few Troopers to round them up and send them to one of the nearby orphanages. He was not about to let two potential soldiers slip through the cracks, particularly not due to negligence on some undeserving citizen's part.

Soon Hordak found himself back in the neighborhood he was staying in. Since he was often off planet for years at a time, he found little need to maintain a permanent residence on the surface. He'd instead found it easier to simply survey the area for a building that suited his fancy and buy it for himself. Of course this inevitably meant evicting the building's current tenants, but Hordeworld was the one place where this was actually seen as a great honor over anything else. An interesting experience for the Horde General to say the least.

Currently, Hordak was taking up residence in an older building that had served as a rather lavish apartment complex. It suited the Horde General's sense of history to stay there, it was but one of three buildings that remained on all of Hordeworld that had not yet been torn down and replaced by one of black steel and iron. The massive suite he was currently using was very comfortable, and high enough in the air to be impervious to all but the most obnoxious of noises. Hordak shuddered as the thought of what an obnoxious noise would have to be to accomplish that entered his mind. That was when he saw it. It was standing on the dumpster in the alley right behind his home, his dumpster. At first all he could make out were the leathery wings on its back, but that was all he needed as it jumped into the dumpster.

#_The blasted Wingrat! Now I've got you, you wretched little beast!#_ Hordak thought to himself. For the past three weeks, the Horde general had been kept awake by the most annoying scratching and digging sounds, as though something was moving rather haphazardly through the walls themselves. He'd believed that the noise was being caused by a wingrat, one of the vermin that infested the city. The nasty little buggers were always crawling into whatever nook or cranny they could fit in, and their ability to fly gave them plenty of ways to approach. He'd demanded an exterminator, who had been completely unable to find anything to indicate one of the flying monstrosities was present in the building. He'd even agreed to fill the whole building with a poison gas just to make sure, but still found nothing. Five times Hordak had sent for a new exterminator, and all five had given him the same answer; there was no wingrat. Still the scratching, stepping, and munching persisted. Hordak had almost considered having the nanites that ran his auditory nerves checked for faulty programming. But now, now that he had the nasty creature in his sights, he'd be all too happy to prove that those so called "professionals" were full of it. Silently he snuck up to the dumpster, his hand reaching for the lid so he could trap the creature. With a resounding bang the lid slammed on top of the metal container, and Hordak grinned maliciously.

"HEY! Let me outta here!" came a stuffy, nasally voice from the dumpster which immediately surprised Hordak. Since when had wingrats learned to talk.

"Curious," Hordak said quietly to himself. Carefully he lifted the lid just a crack, his other arm transforming into a large floodlight he proceeded to shine into the dumpster's interior.

"AH! Get that light offa me!" the same voice demanded as Hordak shot the light to the far corner of the container. His eyes widened as he spotted a little creature trying to bury itself under an old blanket, presumably to remove its eyes from the bright light of Hordak's arm. Immediately the Horde General closed the lid once again, his mind racing as he grappled with what he'd seen. That was most assuredly no wingrat, unless the little pests had undergone some rather severe mutations. In fact, Hordak didn't think he'd ever seen or heard of anything that matched what he had just seen. A smile crossed his lips. The Horde General had always fancied himself a bit of an amateur xenologist. It was handy to be able to make your own assumptions as to a planet's inhabitants rather than simply relying on lackeys. It allowed him to make more detailed and tailored plans for conquest, as well as allowing him to hold an upper-hand in negotiations with those few species and aliens dubbed worthy of being inducted into the Horde. But this, this could be far, far better.

If what he had glimpsed in the trash was indeed a brand new species, than it had either been able to survive the mass industrialization of the planet without being detected once, or it had somehow found a way to circumvent the rather elaborate defenses around Hordeworld. The first one seemed more likely as, if this were indeed a genuine alien, it would have done something other than go dumpster diving for the past three weeks. Hordak was very sure that this was the creature responsible for all the noise he'd had to deal with. As he was considering how best handle the situation, the sound of flapping wings came to his ears. Hordak looked up just in time to see little creature flying away, having escaped the confines of the dumpster. Quickly Hordak made his decision as his arms transformed into two different weapons each. On the left was a standard stun canon and on the right a tracer launcher. Both weapons fired at the same time, the stun blast barely missing the fleeing creature and thus completely distracting him from the small metallic disk that firmly attached itself to his thigh. A sideways glance at the monitor on his arm confirmed for Hordak that the tracer was indeed functioning and he could now track the little creature back to its lair, where there were hopefully others of its kind to find.

With that taken care of, the hordesman turned his attention back to the dumpster, examining the far side to see how the creature had escaped its imprisonment. A quick scan of the metal revealed only a small hole not even big enough for Hordak to get his fist through and nothing more.

_#How in the world did that creature manage to squeeze itself through such a small space?#_

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Imp huffed and puffed as his tired wings finally got him back to Good Nest, his mind working furiously to work out what exactly had happened back at the dumpster. Of course he had not come straight home. The dumpster was too close to Good Nest and Imp had not wanted to run the risk that the stranger would catch sight of him and attack him here. For that reason, he'd spent the better part of the night listening at the window of an apartment as its night-owl tenant watched Horde TV. Now, though, the youngling was left to ponder just why he had been attacked. He was quite certain his attacker was not one of the men in white. They were always too noisy. Maybe an assassin paid by them? No, that made no sense. They had Horde troopers to fall upon if they wanted to chase him away. He could have been another homeless man; Imp had had plenty of problems with other poverty stricken citizens who had thought him an easy target for either abuse or food (it was not Imp's fault he vaguely resembled what others referred to as a pig). But the man had looked far too healthy to be a derelict.

Irritated, he began to bounce his red ball against the wall of Good Nest, one of the many possessions he'd managed to accumulate since he'd taken up residence in this neighborhood. He looked around at all the other possessions; dolls, bottle caps, cups, knives, assorted articles of clothing, and the like, all stolen from residents who had either been too careless or too thoughtless when Imp had been nearby. There was no way he could ever escape Good Nest without leaving all of his things behind, a thought that immediately saddened him.

#I'd better lay low for a few days, try to stay away from that particular dumpster,# he thought to himself. His stomach rumbled as he thought about all the delicious treats he'd be missing out on, particularly if the men in white came and emptied it out before he could get back. A hard thump signaled a particularly hard toss of the ball against the wall. #Maybe… maybe if I transform when I go there, become something he won't recognize…# Early on Imp had discovered his ability to assume different forms, a talent he often used to hide himself as he snuck through the neighborhood. He couldn't count the number of toes that had been stubbed or butts had been flattened simply because people had failed to take heed of a certain blue rock that had suddenly appeared in front of them. He'd even transformed into a snake to escape the dumpster.

Imp's train of thought was derailed as he noticed the first rays of morning light creeping through the door of Good Nest. They were not strong, nor would they ever be given the amount of smog that covered Hordeworld's sky, but they were there, signaling the coming dawn. Silently Imp yawned. Dawn meant it was time for him to sleep. His coloration made it easier for him to be out and about at night, when darkness could shroud him from sight, so it was during the day he tended to sleep. Carelessly he tossed the ball into one of the many piles of stuff that littered Good Nest as he slinked over to his bed, a massive pile of soft cloth and cottony stuffing he'd successfully pilfered from several of the nearby apartments, with a covering made from a large and soft terrycloth towel. Curling up on his stomach with his wings folded down onto his back, Imp pulled his tail in as he pulled up the soft terrycloth towel for cover. Within moments, the soft sound of snoring could be heard as the imp went to sleep.

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Hordak snorted as he stood in his bedroom, both pleased at the fact that his assumption on who was making the noises in his building was right, and irritated beyond belief that he hadn't discovered it sooner. Unwilling to go shopping for new furniture, Hordak had appropriated all the furniture that had already been present, including a rather large oaken bed that currently was in the master bedroom. The headboard of the bed had been pushed all the way against the wall, a fact the Horde General had not thought to question. Now, though, as he searched for the strange creature's nest (he hadn't been at all surprised to find the little creature was living in his building) he had discovered there had been a very good reason for the bed's position… it hid a large hole in the wall that led all the way to the outside. Had the room not been on the top floor, Hordak could have noticed it from the outside. It was here that Hordak's tracer had led him and he silently swore an oath to kill the citizen that had sold him this place as he moved the bed just enough to allow his head to peer into the hole. Sure enough, the inside of the wall looked like a packrat's paradise with all the dirty and dingy items scattered around. And there, lying in a pile of stuffing near the opening in the outer wall was the creature he'd seen, sleeping away the day. Of course Hordak had guessed it was nocturnal, so he wasn't too surprised. After all, that was the reason he'd decided to track it during the day, so he could catch it asleep.

Silently, so as not to wake the creature, Hordak reached into a rather large duffel bag and pulled out a small infrared remote camera. He had picked up some equipment suitable for observing his target after he'd lost the creature the previous night, though the quartermaster had been hard pressed to understand why Hordak of all people would need the equipment when he could easily get a master spy to do any snooping he wanted. Briefly the Horde General had considered simply telling the xenologists about his find and letting them handle figuring out what it was, but somehow he couldn't accept them sharing in his discovery. If this was indeed a new species, then this was an accomplishment even the great Horde Prime would be unable to copy as he NEVER came to Hordeworld but stayed aboard the Velvet Glove.

With those thoughts, Hordak had taken it upon himself to make the creature a new hobby. Carefully he moved aside a large (for the nest's size) mound of things that looked like they hadn't been touched in some time, particularly given the layer of dust the items had. Once he had placed the video camera and checked it to make sure he would get optimum coverage, he replaced the pile, effectively hiding the camera from the nest's occupant. Next he placed a small microphone in an upper corner of what would have been considered the ceiling. If the creature spoke again Hordak would hear it and his equipment would record it. Satisfied, Hordak quietly moved his bed back up against the wall, once more sealing the creature in question out of his room.

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Imp yawned as he awoke from a day's sleep, an action that produced a loud sneeze that made him clamp down on his snout. Quickly his eyes darted around in the darkness, making sure nothing was going to take advantage of his sudden outburst of noise and try to steal his nest. When nothing revealed itself, Imp began to sit up in his bed and slowly stretch, banishing the last vestiges of sleep from his body. Dropping to all fours on the floor, the tiny monster crawled stealthily around to the tattered and torn remains of a large plush toy. Suddenly, with an audible growl, Imp leapt for the toy, biting and grabbing as he did so. Fabric tore as his fangs ripped off a chunk of the cottony fluff, and the whole thing fell over. Imp smiled as he roughly landed, this was the kind of play he enjoyed. It kept him fierce, powerful, and ready for anything that might try to take him out. Once he was done with the doll, he moved on to the red ball he'd had last night. With a sharp smack of his hand, the ball rolled across the floor of the nest only to be blocked by Imp's fat tail and sent sailing in a new direction. Again Imp scrambled into the path the ball was taking, striking it again. For nearly thirty minutes, the blue monsterling repeated his game, only stopping as the shrill wail of a siren reached his ears. Silently, he moved towards the entrance to his lair, looking out. The siren signaled first curfew, effectively telling anyone with only a level one citizen card that being outside of their homes would result in immediate incarceration. It also had the duel effect of signally when the last rays of Hordeworld's weak sun had disappeared over the horizon. Sure now that he would not be spotted, Imp adjusted his shirt to allow his wings as much freedom as possible, stretching them in preparation for the night's activities. The sound of clicking hooves could be heard as he jumped from the hole and took off into the night.

"Ahhhh," Imp sighed as he felt the rushing wind going through his hair, his wings stretching to their maximum size as he caught the smog laden breeze of Hordeworld air and began to glide. The scavenger angled his wings ever so slightly, his tail moving to keep him balanced, and his direction altered as he moved through the open air, surveying the city. Below him, dreary lights could be seen emanating from the buildings; sure signs that the citizenry was very much active, even at night. Through the streets, Horde constables marched in pairs, stunner sticks knocking against their hips as they passively scanned the dark areas and alleyways for any stragglers caught out after curfew.

In truth, first curfew was meant to keep children and juveniles indoors after dark, where they were less likely to get into mischief. Technically, they were the only ones who were supposed to be in possession of the level one card but, as Imp had seen for himself on numerous occasions, there were certain advantages to forgoing getting the level two cards supposedly due to you upon reaching adulthood. Not having one made it that much harder for a trooper or constable to trace your identity, and the signal given off by the cards was fairly weak in comparison to the higher level citizen cards. Being caught at any point without a citizen card meant immediate execution, but breaking first curfew was such a minor offense that Horde Prime was known to punish the constable that bothered him with such a thing far worse far more often then he did the actual offender.

Imp's wings angled again, this time forward, as he began his descent into the city below quietly landing on an awning as two constables walked past. His stomach grumbled as he landed, letting him know it was time to eat. Silently he cursed the man from the night before. If not for him, the blue boy would have been able to go to his favored dumpster to eat. Experience, however, told him to stay away for a while, at least until the coast became clearer. Sniffing the air, Imp located the nearest garbage dump he could find and headed for it, entering one of the many darkened alleys on the street. As he began to eat, the sound of feet scuffling on stone could be heard. Carefully Imp lifted his head out of the dumpster to see what was going on, his sensitive eyes finding three humanoid creatures standing at the end of the alley.

Judging by the size difference, two of the humanoids looked to be children when compared to the third that they faced. The shortest of the trio was a scruffy red headed boy with a green flannel shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck and freckles on his face, along with a scared look as he glanced back down the alley, trying to make sure no one had spotted them. His partner was a brown haired teenage boy with a green sweater and a patch over his left eye and a stern look on his face. He held the younger boy's hand in an iron grip, as though trying to keep him from bolting. The third humanoid towered over the two boys. A massive man with what looked like long platinum blonde hair and a youthful, chiseled face stood before the two. He wore what looked like it might have been armor, though if the man's frame was any indication; it could have easily just been muscle. Imp made sure to remain very quiet, fully aware that he was most likely bearing silent witness to what was a thoroughly illegal meeting.

&_So what are they meeting about?&_ The possibilities were almost endless, given Hordeworld's less than savory atmosphere. The apprehensive look of the younger boy seemed to hint at this being a nastier piece of work than usual.

"Is my new property ready?" the man asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the two street urchins as he studied them carefully.

"Do you have my money?" the older boy asked, clearly trying to seem as though he was unfazed by the intimidating presence before him.

"It's rude to answer a question with a question, boy, not to mention dangerous when you are not the one in the stronger position," the man said. As if to emphasize the point, he raised a fist that was covered in a spiky glove and brandished it at he brunette. A small droplet of something green fell from one of the blades. Carefully the taller boy handed the man a package. Imp could see the ivory fangs of a smile on the man's face.

"Excellent, excellent," the man said as he handed over a handful of coins to the boys.

"Hey this is only a quarter of what you promised!"

"And you're lucky you're getting that much. Now get out of here before I skin you both alive!" To emphasize his point the man slammed his gauntlet-clad hand into the wall, leaving a substantial crack in the brickwork. Immediately the two boys haphazardly shoved the coins into their pockets, losing many of them in the process. "Filthy brats," was all the man said as he watched the two boys flee before leaving the alleyway himself. Having seen everything of interest, Imp too decided to leave, but not before gathering up all the coins the boys had dropped.

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Hordak read the reports that had been brought to him, an angry scowl on his face as he did so. The reports were on prospective planets Horde Prime wanted to see conquered and, as was ever the case, the impatient Overlord wanted them conquered centuries ago. As what basically amounted to his second in command, Hordak was charged with determining which Horde Generals, and their accompanying armed forces, would go to which planet. The problem was separating the wheat from the chaff where the commanders were concerned. The very structure of the Horde meant that hundreds of useless officers gained command positions based solely on just how much butt they could kiss in one sitting, and thus it was Hordak's job to make sure these undeserving sots got sent to planets where they would either sink or swim. The difficulty was it was very hard to gauge the mettle of a man if you never met him, and Hordak had yet to be properly introduced to many of these new commanders.

The sound of flapping wings snapped Hordak's attention away from the papers, signaling that his little "pet" had returned. Quickly the Horde General turned xenologist grabbed a notepad that had been sitting next to him, quickly opening it and marking down the time. Once again, the creature had returned before sun-up, just as it had everyday for the last three weeks.

&_Just as __HE__ has,&_ Hordak thought, mentally correcting himself. Determining the creature's gender had been one of the earlier observations Hordak had been able to make, though doing so had left the normally stoic Horde General feeling somewhat filthy.

Silently he turned on the closed circuit television he'd connected to the camera in the creature's lair. Predictably, Hordak's little hobby had begun rolling around on the floor of his lair clutching an equal sized doll in his arms and legs. Hordak was actually amazed he didn't break a wing with all his rolling about. Quickly he wrote down his observations of the "battle," particularly the number of times the creature bit into the doll. Hordak had taken the thing to have the saliva analyzed and had been quite surprised to discover the creature's mouth was almost oozing poison. Obviously he realized this himself and used this fact as his primary weapon. According to computer analysis, the toxins were extremely potent, highly deadly, and possessed no known antidote. Hordak smiled, you could accomplish a lot with a sample of such a liquid. Names and faces flashed through his mind.

The most surprising thing, though, was the creature's diet. At first, Hordak had tried to attract it back to his own dumpster by throwing away fresh (for Hordeworld anyway) produce and meats. It had been a shock to discover the creature had rejected the fresh foods in favor of a rancid slab of rapidly molding ham. Closer examination of his food choices revealed that he did indeed subsist on rotten and decaying foodstuff, as well as various other unsavory items Hordak was quite sure would kill anything else that tried to consume them. Given the way the creature's venom rotted away its victims from the inside out, Hordak had no trouble determining how he got the component chemicals for it. The Horde General smiled a sinister smile as he imagined having a small group of the creatures trained to wreak havoc in enemy encampments. Finally, playtime ended and the creature settled down for the day, a fact that made Hordak somewhat sad. On the night he had first sighted the abnormal monster, the Hordesman could have sworn he'd heard the creature actually speak. Hordak had hoped he'd speak again, especially if it was something other than one or two phrases. It was one thing to discover some new dumb animal, but one that was actually intelligent enough to communicate would go down in history books

Sensing he wasn't going to see anything else really worth seeing; the creature was now snoring in its bed; Hordak turned off the monitor, relying on the camera to record anything out of the ordinary that might happen during the day. That was when he heard it. It was the sound of fairly big wings beating through the air, a clear indication that something large was coming in for a landing. All hopes that he was finally going to see a second creature were dispelled, however, as Hordak heard a loud screeching squeal followed by a thud against the wall. Quickly turning the monitor back on, Hordak was greeted by the sight of a battle as a very big wingrat attack his creature. The creature, having been taken by surprise, was on his back and fighting desperately as his bigger opponent bit and scratched at him. Hordak found himself mentally cheering for the little guy who was clearly outmatched as he tried to use his hooves to kick the rat's gullet. Sharp toes swiftly managed to cause sufficient damage to force the wingrat to shift its weight, allowing the creature to pull himself up and bury his fangs into the shoulder of hiss attacker. Immediately, the vermin made a high pitched screech as it reared back, trying to dislodge its suddenly deadly foe. Finally, the wingrat fell off the creature and onto its back, pitching back and forth as the deadly rotting toxin spread throughout its system.

"Yes," Hordak said in a hushed whisper as he watched the wingrat's death throes. The little blue creature, showing some mobility even in his injured state, wisely backed away from the beast to avoid its slashing claws and gnashing teeth. Finally, the wingrat fell still, its ribs no longer expanding or contracting. Hordak could almost smell the stench of death and decay the corpse was giving off. Over in the corner of the nest the blue creature too lay still, injured, though still alive. Slowly, Hordak moved his bed away from the wall, and looked into the nest. Shallow, raspy breathing could be heard as Hordak looked over to where the creature lay with the dead wingrat nearby. He lay on his back, a bad position for any creature with wings to be in, and one of his wings was very clearly bent in the wrong direction. His shirt looked like a rag with all the cuts from the rat's claws and the bite mark on the creature's shoulder was releasing a lot of blood. Silently Hordak weighed his options.

If the creature did die, it would mean an end to Hordak's private study. There was no way he had the equipment or the knowledge needed to effectively dissect the creature, which would mean he would have to let someone else in on his discovery. The creature's death would also effectively reduce the chances for anyone being able to find more of these creatures. On the other hand, short of killing him at a later date, Hordak would never get a better chance to examine the insides of the creature, particularly the digestive system that would allow for such a deadly diet.

#_Still, it would be a great waste to have spent so many weeks watching this creature just to see him die because some worthless pest got the drop on him,#_ Hordak thought. #_But the question remains as to whether or not I would be able to save him.#_ Silently Hordak made his decision as he reached into the creature's den and lifted him out.

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_&I'm floating, that's what it feels like. I'm in the air and my wings aren't flapping. It hurts so much to move. Is this what it feels like to die!? I don't like it, I don't._

_I… I feel something! Something's taking off my shirt! What's happening? I… I can't see anything but blurs. Something white has me… THE MEN IN WHITE! No, no I don't want to die like this! I want my Mom! I want my Dad! _

_Something's wrapping around me. It feels wet and slimy like… like a tongue! No, they're going to eat me! Gotta get outta here! AH! I feel… so tired. Can't… stay… awa…&_

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Carefully Hordak placed the creature in a basket nest of small pillows as he finished bandaging his wounds. The creature whimpered a little in his sleep as some of the pain managed to make its way to his brain.

&_But with any luck the sleeping pill I gave him will keep him from flopping around like he was a moment ago.&_ Hordak thought. He looked at the torn and ruined shirt that he still held in his hand, spots and splotches of crimson all over it. He'd been forced to cut the shirt off of the little monster in order to sterilize and dress his wounds and splint his wing, which meant Hordak needed to find something else for his little houseguest to wear. &_Something that can wait until I'm sure he's survived, I think.&_ Hordak sat down at his private terminal and began to write about what was changing in his study, as well as what he had learned of the creature. He'd been most amazed to see that the bones of the injured wing were already knitting themselves together again, healing at an amazing rate. At the thought of how quickly the creature would be up and about again, Hordak opened a link in the computer system to a nearby store, entering in an order for a good-sized cage to be delivered. &_No sense in letting the creature escape now._& Finishing his entry, Hordak smiled and got up, looking at the creature.

"Well my little friend, I guess we're just going to have to take our little relationship to the next level, which shouldn't be so bad. I can study you, feed you and keep a much better eye on you," Hordak whispered to his sleeping houseguest. "And, should you prove tamable and trainable; the Horde might just be able to use you. Though I suppose I'll need some sort of name for you, won't I?" With those words, Hordak turned out the light and left to let his guest sleep while he worked in another part of the building.

Two hours later found the Horde General returning to his bedroom to check up on the creature, which he'd now dubbed "Scavenger," only to be greeted by the sound of pained whimpering. Fearing the sleeping pills had worn off and "Scavenger" was now further injuring himself as he fought back the pain, Hordak turned on the light. The creature was currently lying on its side, sweat falling off the portions of his skin that had been left exposed as he coughed and sputtered. Carefully, Hordak placed a hand on "Scavenger's" chest. Something was definitely wrong. Where before his skin had been just this side of cool to the touch, now it was very warm.

&_Is it possible he's become sick? How does that happen, I took every precaution?&_ Hordak felt "Scavenger" shiver violently, quite obviously unwell. Quickly he moved the monster back onto his stomach and covered him before returning to his terminal. A split second later, a link was opened to the Horde's server. Over its centuries of conquest, the Horde had amassed a wealth of knowledge from its numerous conquests all of which was, at varying levels, made accessible to members of the Horde who might need it. Somewhere there had to be a reference Hordak could use to help the creature. Quickly he made a list of every medicine or treatment that presented itself. Now that he had chosen to save the creature's life, "Scavenger's" death would be more than just a simple inconvenience; it would be a mark of failure on him. Within an hour, most if not all of the medicines and ingredients arrived at his building.

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Hordak sat in an angry huff at his terminal, growling half at himself and half at "Scavenger" for being so difficult over the past few days. All around him lay the opened and discarded containers of countless "remedies" Hordak had acquired for the sole purpose of curing the creature of whatever illness had suddenly gripped him. Unfortunately, rather than heal "Scavenger", each medicine, each poultice, each treatment only seemed to make him worse. Introduction of a medicine to reduce his coughing had made him vomit; an anti-congestant had instead clogged his porcine nose up with disgusting green mucus; and a poultice designed to give heat to the body instead created horrible lesions over any part of his skin it touched. Hordak had been forced to wash the last one off of "Scavenger" in a tub of hot water, only to hear a horrible squealing when "Scavenger's" body touched the water. The only thing that had actually helped had been a blackened banana peel Hordak had been able to coax his young patient to eat.

Now the creature was in a fitful sleep in his basket while Hordak tried yet again to find something, anything that might point to a cure. Since medical science had failed (and miserably) Hordak was now turning towards Horde sorcery for help. His eyes widened as his search of the magical database yielded results unexpected. It was a digitized copy of a book of ancient myths that popped up on the screen. At first, Hordak had been prepared to slam a fist into the terminal for giving him something he hadn't asked for, but then he'd noticed just what he had gotten.

Sitting on the screen was a picture of a creature that looked very similar to what was currently taking up residence in the Horde General's bedroom, the biggest difference being the sharp spike that jutted out of the pictured creature's forehead.

"It couldn't be…" Hordak thought as the implications of the picture. Was it possible that the creature he'd found was not fully developed; a juvenile? Curious, Hordak began to read the creature's brief description.

&_Imp: A mythological demon. Nocturnal, highly mischievous, thrives on decay…&_ The information matched with what Hordak had observed of the creature certainly, but was it possible that this creature's species was responsible for the myth of the imp? More importantly, if this creature was simply a kid, where were the adults nesting? Grudgingly, Hordak pushed aside these questions as he eyed the last bit of the description. &_They thrive on decay? Could it be that's why he's getting sicker and not better?&_ Hordak thought, recalling how he'd seen the imp reject the fresher foods Hordak had tried to tempt him with in favor of those that had been rotted and putrid. Quickly, an idea entering his mind, Hordak reached for his communicator. One of the benefits of being second-in-command of the Horde was that you did not have to waste time explaining why you wanted things if you weren't in the mood to explain, a fact that came in very handy when a fellow needed to get a hold of a barrel of raw sewage.

The delivery was made in less than an hour, coupled with a suit and oxygen mask. Hordak had the delivery men move the barrel to one of the first floor bathrooms, the benefit of living in an apartment complex was that you had plenty to choose from, and had them empty the barrel's contents into the bathtub. Once the men were gone, Hordak retrieved his little project, still shivering despite blankets Hordak had practically cocooned him in, and brought him to the tub. Carefully removing the bandages, the mighty Lord of the Horde grimaced as he saw the still open and festering cuts on "Scavenger's" body, remnants of his encounter with the wingrat.

With a final look at the revolting stew of decay and filth, Hordak gently lowered the creature into the tub. Suddenly, the polluted water began to pulse as the imp settled on the bottom, his wings stretching wide as though to maximize the amount of the vile liquid that could touch him. Hordak watched with utter revulsion as the imp's body seemed to absorb the sewage rapidly, even as he was fascinated by the effect it was having. Lesions faded as the cuts and scraps closed as if they never were, even his nose cleared as if by magic. Hair that had been ragged and dull once more took on a dark indigo color as it became thick once again. The formerly broken wing, already mending at an impressive speed before Hordak's attempt to medicate, almost seemed to snap back to perfection. Even as Hordak watched the recovery take place, he marveled as he noticed the water, which had been so completely polluted that it was little more than an opaque green sludge, was steadily becoming clearer and clearer. Eventually, Hordak could make out the bottom of the tub, a fact that surprised him so much; he accidentally released his grip on the imp and "Scavenger's" head began to sink below the surface of the water, his jaw opening as though to let the still putrefied water in. Since his nose remained above the water, Hordak saw no reason to dirty his own hands lifting his houseguest out again, not that it seemed the water would remain dirty for much longer. A few minutes later, Hordak blinked at his own reflection in what looked to be crystal clear water of a type that had not truly existed on Hordeworld for many, many years.

Still wearing his protective gear, Hordak reached into the water and pulled "Scavenger" from it, not wishing him to get sick again from being in purified water. The monsterling was lightly snoring as Hordak wrapped him in blankets and carried him away, not forgetting to take a sample of the bath water; he had a strong suspicion testing it would prove it completely pure. Once more entering the bedroom, Hordak placed the imp back in his basket, a move which elicited a rather loud yawn from the Horde General. Turning out the light, Hordak slipped into his own bed and went to sleep.

Time passed; the Horde General dreamed of endless conquest, of a universe firmly under his control, of a Horde with only one ruler… HORDAK. Suddenly, the scent of brimstone began to permeate Hordak's grim dream world. Beginning to awaken, Hordak also began to feel a slight pressure on his chest, as though something were resting on him of all places. Hordak's eyes opened, nanites in his bloodstream helping his eyes adjust to the darkness far faster than any normal creature could. He was quite surprised to discover that "Scavenger" was no longer in the basket Hordak had placed him in. Almost like a pudgy feline, the monsterling was now laying on Hordak's chest, his arms and legs drawn up under him in a relaxed position, his wings flat against his back. But what sent a shiver up Hordak's spine was the fact that, even in the darkness, he could clearly make out "Scavenger's" fully open yellow eyes.

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To be continued…

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	2. Chapter 2

Hello, My Name is Imp

by Asher Tye

Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own Imp, Hordak, the Horde or anything related to the Masters of the Universe/Princess of Power series. This is purely a work of fiction and is being done solely for the entertainment value alone.

Caution: This story flips between two points of view so it might become a little difficult to tell when you're looking at the world through the eyes of Hordak or of Imp.

Author's Note: Bet you thought this story was dead didn't you. Well it's not; it's just been difficult to find inspiration to write for it for a while, so sorry about that. Hopefully next chapter won't take nearly as long to compose, so please be patient. I sorta know what I want to do now, but as I've said before, life can take many different turns. Any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated, as will reviews. That being said, on with the story.

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Imp stared at the man, and the man stared back, for what felt almost like a complete year. If he was surprised or frightened, he hid it very well from the young monster. For his part, Imp was trying for the life of himself to figure out why the man looked so familiar to him. It was fairly obvious that this time he had not intended the boy any real harm, otherwise Imp knew very well he wouldn't be alive right now. Imp had had a few dealings with the larger bipeds that ruled this planet when he had been much younger, often in the form of them attacking him as he tried to make a nest in what was now obviously to him their home. The fact that the room they were currently in was full of his scent, as well as the familiar view from the windows, told him fairly bluntly that he was on the other side of the wall in Good Nest.

&_So, if this guy knew I was there, why didn't he kill me when he had the chance?&_

The pair continued to stare at each other in the darkness for what seemed like forever. That was when Imp's ears picked up on a slight murmur as he noticed the man's red eyes had shrunk to slits.

"What are you waiting for, hmm? If I move first, you're chances of striking go down, you can't possibly hope to match my strength. Are you hoping I can't see you in the dark, or that I think you're just asleep?" It took few minutes for Imp to process the fact that, though the questions were directed at him, the man wasn't actually talking to him. Realizing that this could go on all night, the young boy decided to make his own move.

"It's kinda rude ta talk ta someone like they aren't even there," he said. Immediately the man's mouth stopped moving, though it remained open for a few seconds. A grin suddenly appeared on his face, one that made Imp feel like he'd just given up something.

"So, I wasn't imagining it that night in the dumpster, you did talk," the man said. "And apparently it isn't just mimicry; you can actually speak our language."

"Of course I can. What else would I speak?" Suddenly, the man shifted his body. Acting on instinct, Imp's wings opened and he pushed off flying up to the ceiling and hovering out of the man's reach.

"Forgive me, but it was getting a tad uncomfortable looking at you from that position," the man said as he got out of the bed, his eyes fixed on Imp's little body.

"Yeah, whatever," Imp replied as he went back to trying to figure out why the man was so familiar. "Who are you?" he finally asked, blunt as he could.

"Hmm? That's the question you choose to ask? I would have thought you'd be more concerned with where you were or what I was going to do with you."

"I've got a pretty good idea where I am, and if I'm wrong, it's not like I can't get my bearings from a bird's eye view of the city. As to what you want with me, call me crazy, but if doesn't seem like you could keep me here."

"Intelligence; at least enough to make a fair assessment of your situation. As far as making you stay however…" Imp's eyes were temporarily blinded as a bright light covered the man's left arm. Before he could react, a net came out of nowhere and wrapped itself around his small body, causing him to fall to the ground. As his vision cleared, he noticed that his host's previously glowing left arm had transformed into a netcaster, the source of the object that now bound him. "Now then, what was that you said about me not being able to keep you here?" For a few brief moments, Imp struggled with the net, attempting to liberate himself. Finally, he held very still.

"I was saying it doesn't look like you could." With a small shimmering of light, Imp's body transformed into that of a serpent and he easily slithered his way out of the holes in the net. The man stared, the grin on his face once more making the young monster feel like he'd given up too much.

"A shape shifter… That explains how you were able to escape the dumpster when I closed the lid… I must say I'm learning more about you now than I ever did just watching you."

"Yeah… You were watching me?" Imp alighted on the desk, more than a little intrigued as to why someone would be so interested in him.

"Yes I was. I've never seen anything like you before, anywhere. I've been to countless worlds, encountered equally countless species, and yet here on my own home world I meet a creature I've never seen. How is that possible? Where did you come from? What do you want? In my line of work, such information is very important; such knowledge can mean the difference between victory and defeat."

"You've never seen anything like me? Not even a little," Imp asked in a somewhat deflated tone of voice. The man shook his head.

"No, I have not, which is what makes you so special."

"So what are you, some kind of freaky scientist?" The man snorted, actually snorted, at that suggestion.

"I am no measly scientist. You stand in the presence of Hordak, Supreme Commander of the Forces of the Evil Horde and the most powerful being on Hordeworld."

"Really," Imp asked, fully impressed by the introductory speech he'd been given. And why shouldn't he be, this was the first time in his life any of the bipeds of the planet had deigned speak to him in a manner that didn't end with Imp being shot at. Besides, as long as this "Hordak" talked, Imp didn't have much to fear in the way of being captured.

"If I had been a scientist, you most likely would not have been alive after I discovered your nest. More likely you would be lying on a table somewhere with various vital organs removed for study, a terrible waste considering."

"So why didn't you just turn me over to them? Why waste your time and energy when there were others to do this work?" At Imp's question, Hordak's face seemed to shrink a little, as though he were trying to answer the question himself.

"As I said, it would have been a terrible waste to see you killed so soon. Beyond that, do not expect me to explain my reasons to a whelp who couldn't understand," said Hordak with great finality. "That said; it seems we are at an impasse. Though there are ways I could entrap you, I lack the materials needed to use them without causing you undue and permanent physical harm."

"Be that as it may, as you have surmised, I have invested a great deal of time and effort into studying you. Time and energy that has, up until this point, yielded somewhat disappointing results for me, results that I wouldn't even begin to accept had an inferior given them to me. Though you could doubtless escape me now, the fact that you are now aware of the fact that you are a creature of interest to the Horde would taint any and all information we could gather on you in the wild. Therefore it would no longer be in our best interest to attempt to observe you discreetly." In response to this, Imp's own body became rigid as his muscle tensed for a quick aerial escape.

"Long before you could make it out of the city; I could scramble every trooper on the planet to apprehend you. I wager you are still too inexperienced at transforming yourself to be able to effectively hide from a determined search." As he spoke, Hordak moved over to the window.

"I could just kill you. I'm poisonous. You'd be dead in a snap," Imp countered, trying to sound as fierce as any wingrat or street person he'd known as he attempted to intimidate the general. Hordak smiled that same nasty grin at him.

"Oh yes, you could try to bite me. But honestly your best chance for that passed the moment I woke up to find you on my chest. The differences between us would easily negate any advantage your poison would give you in this setting. I am a Horde General, fully trained in combat with years of experience defending my person from animals much more ferocious than you could ever be; whereas you are simply a boy, an infant acting out a desperation that invariably will cause you to make a foolish mistake that will cost you your life." Even as he spoke, Imp could see the Hordesman's body flexed slightly, as if to show off how prepared he was to back up his threat. The relaxed coldness of his form did more to intimidate the imp than anything he had ever encountered in his life. In one quick movement, he sank to his haunches on the desk, his ears and snout drooping in defeat.

"So… so what happens now?"

"What do you want to happen? That is the question you should ask when confronted with a problem. Do you want to be reduced to some peon's lab animal, destined for nothing more than a slow dissection?" Imp didn't even bother to answer such an obviously rhetorical question. "Personally, it would seem to be a great waste to me."

"What do you mean?"

"You have skills, of that there's no doubt… And yet you waste them on such trivialities as hiding in dumpsters, scrounging for trash. You could be very useful with the right man to guide you." The young monsterling's eyes narrowed in suspicion. Contrary to what this Hordak was probably thinking, this was not the first time someone had offered him a job like this. Typically, such fiascos ended with Imp having to escape from a cage of some sort that had been "specifically designed to hold shapeshifting freaks like you." Though escaping such predicaments tended to prove fairly easy (obviously no one had encountered anything quite like him) they tended to be annoying all the same.

"I'll pass on being some freak on display, thank you," Imp finally answered.

"I would too," Hordak stated. "I would also find it a waste of talent to put you on display… particularly since it's because so few people know about you that makes you effective." Hordak took another step closer to the monsterling, and for once Imp didn't back up. "I'm not going to pretend I'm some saint with your best interests at heart. When I look at you I don't see another independent creature, I don't see Imp; I see a weapon, a living weapon but a weapon nonetheless, with a lot of potential. If in making you useful to myself I happen to improve your life; that is merely a side effect of our relationship." Hordak took his final step, now towering over Imp and looking even more impressive than before.

"So, what is your choice?"

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Hordak stood on the corner of the sidewalk, a single street lamp his only source of illumination, staring intently at the high-rise apartments across the street from him. It had been sixteen days since "Imp" as he called himself had decided to accept Hordak's offer of… in truth Hordak really didn't know what he had offered the little creature. It wasn't like he was sponsoring Imp for membership the Horde. Hodak held no delusions as to what would happen if his little "project" went to the Horde Academy. He would fail, and fail miserably. The Academy's programs were just not capable of adapting to show off the creature's strengths. But how long could Hordak keep such a dangerous creature's existence a secret, and more importantly, what would Horde Prime think when he found out. As things stood, there was no good answer to that question, but Hordak had not retained his position as second in command of the Horde by failing to recognize unique opportunities. He would find a way to appease Horde Prime, and even make him forgive Imp's ability to fly.

A movement near the roof of the building caught the attention of Hordak's cybernetically enhanced eyes. His eyes quickly zoomed in on the scene as a night blue snake slowly pulled itself free of a storm drain and got on top of the roof. Hordak smiled as a dim light surround the snake and it shifted back into the familiar form of Imp. Taking a quick look around, Imp leapt from the building, flying, not down to Hordak, but to the next building. Quickly Hordak left his own position to rendezvous with his little thief.

Two blocks away Imp stood in a doorway, his yellow eyes the only thing visible as he did so. As Hordak walked by, he bent his knees ever so slightly to catch hold of the blue bag that suddenly appeared. Never breaking his stride, Hordak continued down the street at a steady pace as two Horde patrolmen suddenly appeared. The General did not flinch or move or change his direction. If these guards had any reason to be suspicious of him, or more importantly his bag, then that meant Imp had failed this little outing and would need some more training. As Hordak passed the patrol, he heard it as their steps suddenly stopped and they turned around.

"Excuse me, citizen," one of the patrolmen said. Hordak stopped; his muscles tensing. Just because being caught wouldn't mean a failure on his part didn't mean he could afford to allow either of these two to survive to report Hordak's involvement.

"May I help you," Hordak said, his voice calm and annoyed at the same time, indicating that he was not in the mood to be bothered.

"Are you Hordak?"

"Yes I am." The two patrolmen looked at each other, their eyes going wide.

"I told you that was Hordak," one whispered to the other.

"No, you said it was Maximus, I said it was Hordak."

"If there's nothing else, I am busy…"

"One moment sir," the patrolman who had stopped Hordak said. "May I please have you autograph?"

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Hordak lightly tossed the blue "bag" into the air, watching as the object shimmered and transformed back into Imp who clutched as silvery disk to his chest so tightly Hordak was a little afraid his claws would scratch the delicate surface. Using his wings to right himself in the air, Imp landed himself gently on the computer desk, setting his prize down.

"Well," Hordak said. "All things considered, I guess we can say trial mission number 2 was a success."

"If you say so boss, but I kinda like it better when I get things for me." Imp's first mission, undertaken a mere day after they'd joined forces, had been one as much of necessity as it had been a test to see how much skill the creature had.

In all the excitement of finally getting to have a conversation with his little project, Hordak had actually forgotten that the reason he'd chosen to abandon his former policy of non-interaction with Imp; to save his life, had necessitated him cutting the young monster's clothing from his body, something he had not remembered until Imp himself managed to snag a look at his reflection in the mirror and realized he was completely naked. It was something of a surprise to Hordak to discover that the little creature had a sense of modesty about him, a fact that was proven most eloquently when Imp dove into the covers of Hordak's bed, twisting the sheets around him in a makeshift wrap. Since Imp had nothing else of his own, Hordak, after making a makeshift shirt out of an old pillowcase, had decided that would be Imp's first test; to gain something more appropriate to wear. Thus had Imp broken into a toy store and raided their doll section for something to wear that wasn't quite so amorphous. Not the most challenging of missions, granted, but one that was adequate and served a purpose. Imp had managed to purloin several shirts and pairs of pants before discarding all save one and had not only managed to keep hidden, but to keep the theft undetected. Hordak had checked. The owner hadn't even known he'd been burgled.

Now he had just completed a more complicated and less friendly mission. Hordak had had the little monster sneak into a Horde Science Lab, a dangerous proposition given the security that protected the place and the penalty that was meted out if one got caught. Not that that had proven a concern tonight. Quickly Hordak loaded the disk into his personal computer, a machine that had absolutely no connection to the Horde network. It was something of a pain to maintain such an isolated unit, but it had proven its worth in keeping Hordak's more sensitive files away from prying eyes. It would also help now to prevent anyone from being able to accuse Hordak of having stolen the information. Nearby, Imp alighted on a cushioned chair and turned on the television monitor. Despite the somewhat repressive attitude Horde Prime had towards entertainment and pleasure, even he recognized the value in television to help control the masses. Now having actual access to such a device, Imp had taken to using his free time to watch it, something Hordak couldn't really complain about as it kept the young boy quiet while the general worked on his own project.

"This is Anchor-Man, with HNN, the Horde News Network. Good evening citizens and all military personnel on leave here on the homeworld, including Great Lord Hordak.

"Our top story tonight…"

"My face looks like a horse's butt and my breath helps me to maintain that illusion." This last part, though done in the voice of Anchor-Man, did not actually come from the newscaster's lips. Now exposed to many other voices, Imp was developing his talent for mimicry by abusing Anchor-Man's ego, albeit from a safe distance.

"With Mighty Horde Prime's Birthday coming upon us, the usual stampede can be seen as citizens eagerly rush to find the perfect gift for our invincible overlord."

"That's right Anchor-Man," said a lovely young woman sitting next to him. "This evening throngs of people clogged marketplaces all over the planet, each one hoping to find the perfect gift to give to our Lord and Master." The woman reached under her desk. "As to myself, I got him this lovely little bobble-head of a Monster-Beast."

"Oh real original Diane."

"And what exactly where you planning on giving Lord Horde Prime, Anchor-Man?"

"I plan to…

"Shove my nose as far up his sphincter as possible and hope not to get stuck."

"Imp that's disgusting," Hordak said, turning to face the blue creature, only to find himself staring at two televisions sitting side by side playing identical newscasts. For a brief moment Hordak looked at the two, and then he touched the power button of one turning the set off.

"Found you."

"Nah uh," said the TV that was still on as a pair of eye appeared over the screen. The newscast was continuing. "I'm getting better, aren't I?"

"Yes, but what do you expect with my training," Hordak said as he looked at the newscast on the Imp/TV. Quickly he turned the real television back on. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You're keeping pace with the television transmission. How are you doing that?" It was true. Despite altering the audio for his own amusement, Imp was keeping time with the video. Hordak knew how a television worked and, when asked, he'd delivered something of a simplistic explanation his "houseguest," but to his knowledge there was no way for the blue monsterling to know what the insides of a television looked like, much less what all the parts did. There was no plausible way he could have the actual internal mechanisms of a television. "Can you open up and show me your insides?" Hordak queried.

"No more than you can show me yours," Imp responded in his childishly snide voice that Hordak had actually come to find somewhat charming. Deciding to leave the question for a later date, the Horde General went back to studying his purloined data as Imp returned to watching the television. Only a short while later did Hordak feel a slight weight suddenly appear on his shoulder.

"So what was it I stole, anyway?" the young monsterling asked, flying around Hordak's head and looking at the computer screen.

"Personnel files, experimental notes, and machine schematics. Information that can be used and abused anyway I see fit now," Hordak said simply. It was something of a risk to be pilfering data from Horde computers, but as Hordak looked into the files, he honestly thought the value outweighed the risks. Hundreds of files showed the weaponry upgrades and latest genetically modified monsters the Horde labs were getting ready to churn out. It would be child's play to manipulate events to get the better of these new toys when they did come out, especially now that he knew what he was looking for. That was when he felt the full weight of Imp land on his shoulder. For the briefest of moments he suspected treachery from his little "friend," but this feeling soon subsided as he watched the imp lean too far forward to effectively attack, obviously reading the files as they came. Normally he would not have tolerated such a blatant violation of his privacy but what exactly Imp could plan on using the information for was beyond Hordak's understanding; he liked being trained too much to threaten that status. Finally the clock struck and Hordak shut down the isolated machine.

"Time for bed," Hordak said in his normal commanding voice.

"But I'm not tired."

"Funnily enough, that has no bearing on the situation. Dawn will be coming soon, and you need to sleep." As he spoke, Hordak, no longer wary of being bitten by his little project, grabbed the smaller creature around his plump middle and bodily carried him over to the basket that was still serving as his bed. Of course, such a pathetic grip would have no chance of actually holding Imp if he was determined to leave, so Hordak considered it something of a victory that the child was choosing to obey him.

"Yawn So what are we going to do tomorrow night?" Imp asked as he was lain down on his stomach in his makeshift nest, his wings quickly folding over his back like a small blanket before Hordak pulled a sheet over his back. Thankfully, cleaned sheets did not have an effect on the grime hungry monster, so the Horde General was not forced to put up with the horrid stench of putrid sheets.

"More reconnaissance," Hordak answered as he carefully tucked the little creature in. "I'm taking you to a high security area, the Fright Zone's Maximum Security Armory, which means you won't be getting a full day's sleep before we do this." Suddenly, Imp looked a little nervous.

"I… I've never had to move about in daylight."

"You've gotten good over the last two weeks, I'm confident you will be able to circumvent surveillance. You won't be doing anything more dangerous than being there, so all you have to concentrate on is being unobtrusive."

"Un… ob… tru… sive?"

"Just stay hidden and don't let anyone notice you," Hordak explained as he finished with his young guest. Despite his protests to the contrary, Imp's large yellow eyes were already half closed. With a gentleness that seemed almost alien to the persona of a ruthless Horde General, Hordak scratched behind Imp's large bat-like ears. After a few minutes of this treatment, a soft snoring could be heard coming form the now sleeping monsterling.

Hordak switched off the light and left the room, allowing the little monster to sleep as he contemplated the actions he'd just taken. For almost his entire adult life, Hordak had been a stickler for discipline. Even when he'd been in charge of training new recruits when his own father had been Horde Prime, he'd insisted on complete and absolute discipline even from the greenest troops. He was not a man known to show compassion, to show mercy, particularly not towards those who were unable to defend themselves from him, and there were plenty who fit into that category. On Hordeworld, it was as much a way of life as it was a necessity to keep everyone at arms length.

And yet, hadn't he, the second most powerful man in the empire, just spent time gently scratching the ears of an urchin just to get him to go to sleep? What was this power this little creature had to make Hordak want to treat him thus, and how could Hordak break it? Of greater concern to the tyrant lord, however, was the question of whether he wanted it to stop or not.

There was no denying Hordak was getting older. Though still a young man, at least by his species standards, and in superb physical condition even without the nanotech helping to maintain his body, Hordak was not ignorant of the fact that he did lead a life that was prone to sudden and unexpected declines in health, particularly when assassination was one of the acceptable ways of advancing in rank. It was with no small amount of pride, however, that the younger brother of Horde Prime believed himself to be a paragon of Horde power, possessing knowledge and experience that were by their intrinsic nature indispensable to the Horde. Should he, Hordak, die, it would no doubt be a crippling blow to the empire, one it would most likely never recover from. And yet where lesser men received ample opportunity to pass on the small, almost insignificant kernels of knowledge they possessed to the next generation, Hordak had not.

It had long ago been decided who headed the family, the empire, completely. Horde Prime had been the heir designate and become the ruler of the empire, and it was through him that the bloodline would continue. For Hordak to even give the impression otherwise would be tantamount to treason in his brother's eyes. Unfortunately, Horde Prime's very unapproachable nature, combined with his own status as an emperor, made this something of a difficult task to accomplish, something which the elder brother was keenly aware of. Thus it was that, while Hordak was free to win the admiration and, to a small extent, the loyalty of the troops at his command, permitted to have any number of liaisons with any female that took his fancy, he was unable to get close to any of them, lest he be suspected of subversion. Thus it was that he had no one to benefit from his vast experience, no one to learn at his feet.

And then he'd met Imp. An unclassified creature living on Hordeworld almost completely under the Horde's radar. Obviously intelligent, the boy was actually interested in what Hordak had to say, allowing himself to be coached in improving his skills. And much as Hordak expected, he was improving, and tomorrow would be an excellent test of that.

& & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

Imp had to admit, his life had become much more interesting since he'd met up with Hordak, to say the least. If anyone had asked him a month ago how his life was going, the little pig-faced monster would probably have stupidly said he was quite content. And why shouldn't he have been at that time. Though technically one of the homeless of Hordeworld, Imp had gotten more than enough to eat and been able to waste away his time in idle pursuits, maybe tussling with the odd wingrat or scouting out a new nest location. But now, now he'd tasted pleasure unlike anything before. He'd tasted power. The power to go where he pleased and to do what he wanted with absolutely no one who could stop him, it was intoxicating.

And now he was getting to play the ultimate bad boy and go into one of the Horde's most secure facilities. Granted, this was not actually breaking in without anyone's knowledge, but it was still a thrill being somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. He'd transformed himself into a tiny fly currently resting on the back of Hordak's skull-like head, a form he would be unable to remain in for long. Sensor sweeps were common at the M.S. Armory, where, according to Hordak, the Horde stored its most volatile and dangerous creations, as well as its most damaging and cruelest experiments, and its cleverest battle plans. To gain access to the veritable fortress that was the building, one had to lay one's life almost completely in the hands of those that guarded the facility. Horde telepaths and sorcerers abounded in the compound, using mental and magical power to keep out those who were potentially trouble. Of course, as Hordak had taught him, there were always ways around.

Hordak had used his own magics to render Imp immune to telepathic detection, but only while no one was specifically looking for him. So long as the little blue creature remained something no one would think to scan, his mind would essentially be invisible to any sweeps. It wasn't a perfect protection of course. The moment anyone became aware of an intruder in the facility, Imp would be very easy to spot, especially since he had yet to receive any training in obfuscating his own mind from a telepath. And of course if he was detected, the guards would be under very strict order to shoot first and make sure there wasn't anything left to question. Hordak had been most vivid on that point.

"Good evening General Hordak," one of the guards said as Hordak entered one of the many scanners designed to check for imposters. This was the first test for Imp to pass, and it was actually a fairly easy one given that his mimicry of other creatures was physically perfect. Nothing short of a telepathic scan could penetrate his disguise, or at least that was the hope. Thus was why he had taken on the form of a simple anklet for the actual penetration of this mission.

Once the Horde General had successfully passed the guard station, Imp released his hold on the man's ankle, careful as he did so to not attract attention from anyone, Hordak included. Though the technologically enhanced warlord had trained him and sent him on this mission, it was primarily a test for Imp to show his abilities at breaking and entering with no help. And that, of course, meant that if Hordak found evidence of Imp's intrusion, he would be the one to call for a lockdown.

With the coast finally clear, Imp reverted into his original form, just long enough to become a small fly that immediately took off for the nearby door. It was a calculated risk, but the young demon felt a moving fly would be much less conspicuous than a moving piece of jewelry. Quickly the little imp-turned-bug flew for a ventilation shaft. Previous experience had taught him that such things were excellent for small, maneuverable creatures such as himself to move through, even if they weren't always the safest place to be. In truth, Imp didn't have any idea what sort of defenses the Horde had put up to defend the instillation's most vulnerable points. Hordak had given him only the barest details so that the boy would have to adapt on the fly as it were as he moved through the building.

"Doctor Splicer, a word if you don't mind," came a voice Imp did not recognize. No mean feat considering he'd never been in this particular building before in his life. He looked out a nearby grate carefully, spotting the source of the voice, and the target it was directed at. He had a clear view of what looked like a large humanoid lizard with dark purple scales and a snake's head wearing a metallic breastplate with the Horde insignia on it as well as a fur covered loincloth from which his long tail erupted out the back of. At his sides hung a pair of empty loops, obviously where the lizard-man kept his weapons normally, items he would not have been allowed to carry inside the facility. He spoke to a human wearing an immaculately kept white lab coat. His hair was close cropped to his square head and he wore a pair of glasses that seemed opaque with the light shining on them. The hard look on his face was that of a man who had been forced to suffer overly numerous tedious interruptions to his all too important work and was now being asked to endure one more.

"Only if the words are short and to the point," the man who was obviously this Dr. Splicer replied. "My time is quite valuable, you realize." The look on the snake's face showed what he thought of this comment, but he wisely held his slithery tongue. One did not annoy a Horde scientist and not find one's self on an operating slab very soon afterward. And from what Imp knew of the infamous Dr. Splicer, this was doubly true.

"I've come for the reports on the GENO-soldiers you're preparing for Horde Prime." At this, even the demented geneticist cringed. No one could frighten like Horde Prime.

"Tell Lord Horde Prime my reports will be ready by the end of the week, once the embryos have had a chance to fully develop. While I have little doubt he would find my preliminary findings fascinating, I'm sure he would prefer something more in depth than a detailing of cell mitotic division."

"Watch your tongue doctor, you wouldn't want your insubordination to Horde Prime to get back to him, would you?"

"Is that a threat, Klang?" the Doctor asked.

"Of course not, Dr. Splicer. I would never be so foolish as to threaten the man who supplies me with my venom," the hulking Klang said, supplicating himself in a disgusting manner. "Speaking of which…" Getting the hint, the human reached into his coat pocket and produced a small vial.

"I recommend you dilute this to one thousandth strength or it will dissolve your sprayers rather than become a poison cloud or a jet stream," the doctor warned. "Or don't and lose your hands for all I care."

"Such a peachy person you are Doc," Klang said as he grabbed the vial… and the hand that held it. If Splicer was surprised by this act, it didn't show on his stolid face. "But perhaps I should include a warning of my own. I am going far in the Horde, I can guarantee it. And when I get to where I'm going, I am going to remember who treated me with respect and who didn't."

"I am not impressed with promises of future power, Klang," Splicer said. "I will treat you as the intellectual neonates you are until you prove otherwise. Now release my hand before I shatter this vial. I can grow a replacement hand quite easily, can you boast the same?" For a few moments the two stared at each other. Suddenly, Klang's scaly lips opened as he laughed loudly, releasing the doctor.

"Cold-blooded enough to be my own kin, I will give you that, Doc," the reptilian said as he took vial. "Until next we meet."

"You mean, until next you need my help," Splicer said impassively as he walked away from the Hordesman. If Klang had any final retort, he spoke them too low even for Imp's sensitive ears. Deciding he'd had enough of this, the small demonic looking creature moved again, careful to slide his knees gently over the warm metal surface that currently supported him. Soon he came to a new room, one with a fairly big computer monitor in it. In actuality the monitor was made up of nine smaller ones, each currently displaying a chart or graph or calculation Imp had no way of understanding, but each instantly capable forming a much larger picture with its mates should the need arise. Inside a humanoid creature stood staring at one of the monitors as he fiddled with the controls of what appeared to be a microscope, the image it was enlarging being broadcast to the glass being looked at. Quickly Imp memorized the scene as best he could, paying particular attention to the monitors, before he continued on his trek.

Again and again he visited the supposedly secure rooms of the complex, committing what he saw to memory in case Hordak later asked him about it. Twice he actually ran into the Horde General again, though thanks to his skill at remaining hidden, he was fairly sure Hordak was unaware of this. Finally, the time for the end of the test came and Imp prepared to find a way to leave the building. Carefully he shifted his shape into that of a spider, giving him the advantage of being able to move over a three dimensional area without the need to fly. It was amazing how rarely these supposedly highly trained guards looked up, yet more proof that the competence displayed by Hordak seemed to be something of a rarity amongst the Horde's rank and file. And if that was the case, what did that say about this Horde Prime character's ability to lead.

_&Hordak would probably make a better leader,&_ the imp thought derisively as he skittered along the ceiling. Just like a real spider, his body compressed enough to allow him to squeeze through the cracks of a closing elevator, granting him access to the dark shaft of the car. Not foolish enough to transform back to his normal form, lest any of the numerous security cameras catch him, Imp again skittered, moving up a few levels to the floors containing the chemical labs. It was here he would make his escape from. No one noticed the blue patterned creature as he moved about the area, looking for what he needed. Soon he spotted what looked like a fairly open showering area, a large drain big enough for a snake or eel to fit through in its center. If the form he held was capable of it, he might have smiled.

These were the same showers the scientists used to decontaminate themselves when they worked particularly corrosive or dangerous chemicals. The drain itself led directly into the sewers, a perfect place for a creature like Imp to escape too. A quick sniff of the water told the story of the water used, saturated with chemical solvents with more letters in their names than stars in the Hordeworld sky. For a few brief moments, the spy-in-training was wary. Hordak had warned him of his vulnerability towards curatives, and he wondered if the same held true of more chemical sterilizing agents. Transforming into a snake, Imp steeled up what courage he had and dove headfirst into the open drain.

The pipes twisted and turned, getting narrower or wider without warning, sometimes even flooding with water as someone used them to carry water around. The young shapeshifter adapted in turn, altering his form to accommodate his environment as he followed gravity and the flow of water. A rise in temperature told him when he neared the boiler, and he altered his course accordingly to avoid being parboiled, but finally his footing gave and he found himself freefalling into darkness. A splash of water announced he'd finally landed in the sewers, and the toxic chemicals used to treat the stagnant and putrid water felt invigorating as he swam to the edge of the river of filth and climbed out. Reverting to his natural form, Imp spread his wings and took flight, moving up towards the manhole cover that blocked his exit. Another quick transformation, this time into a long and thin string worm, allowed him to wriggle through the holes in the cover to freedom.

Once more resuming the form that was true for him, Imp took to the air to get his bearings. Hordak had told the boy to meet him two blocks away from the Armory, but there was only so much time the Horde General was willing to wait before he considered the mission scrubbed. Sharp eyes spotted the preordained spot and quickly the young flyer spiraled down towards it, favoring speed over stealth so much that he even surprised a flying wingrat. Thankfully his haste was not so great that he failed to notice something was wrong. Though Hordak was indeed waiting where he'd said he'd be, the Horde General was not alone. Two armored figures stood before him, Horde Troopers from their look, though their silvery armor was decorated in a manner different from their brethren. For the briefest of moments, thoughts of betrayal flashed through the spy's mind. Had Hordak grown tired of him, decided it was better to just be rid of him. But no, Hordak did not seem overly pleased to be in the company of these two men, his red eyes narrowed in irritation that had no chance of abating.

Quickly Imp descended into a nearby alley behind the two Hordesmen's backs careful to keep out of their sights as he tried to make his presence known to his caretaker. If Hordak saw him, he gave no sign, but that was to be expected. Hadn't the man said he was basically keeping Imp a secret from everybody for now? Soon Hordak turned, followed by the two strange troopers, and began to walk away, the two troopers following. Carefully Imp considered his options. He'd been told that if for any reason Hordak was unable to take him home, he was to return alone and await further instructions. While that might have been an excellent idea if Imp had simply not SEEN Hordak, the fact was the image of the Horde General being taken away meant something was up… Did he really want to go back to a place that might prove unsafe at any moment?

Still, as he once more rose into the air with the flapping of his wings, what else could he do?

& & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

"What is the meaning of this?" Hordak had asked of the two Trooper Elite soldiers as they'd met him at the gates of the Armory. His voice had held the irritation of one who had better place to be, a quality most, if not all, Hordemen took to mean they were dangerously close to finding themselves on a remote assignment to some frozen world lacking necessary equipment to stay warm. To these tried and tested troopers it meant nothing.

"Horde Prime demands your presence General Hordak," the Elite on the left said curtly. For a brief moment Hordak's spine stiffened as he considered the possibility that maybe his activities of the past few weeks had been noticed by his elder brother. A plethora of lies danced through the younger sibling's head tried to decide what to say. Horde Prime would not be pleased with him, keeping a secret so big from him. Especially one so deadly. Most assuredly Hordak would have to surrender his little project, and he would have to do it as quickly as possible, which meant giving Imp no explanation as to why Hordak had betrayed him. Of course, there would then be two possible fates for the bizarre little creature. He would either be taken for dissection, or held as a curiosity in Horde Prime's private menagerie. The former would assuredly mean death, as would the latter once the boy proved too much trouble to keep.

_&Regrettable, but unavoidable… for now at least,&_ Hordak thought.

"What is this about?" he asked the troopers in a commanding voice. In theory and in practice Hordak was the second most powerful person in all the empire. No one had the authority to tell him "no," unless Horde Prime said so. If he was truly in trouble, this would most likely be the case.

"I'm afraid I do not know sir," the Trooper Elite stated, much to Hordak's surprise. So he wasn't in trouble, at least not in such a way as Horde Prime wished to make it public. Red eyes caught sight of a blue form as it ducked into an alley, but they did not react; they couldn't afford to.

"Very well, Lord Horde Prime must not be kept waiting." Even as he spoke these fell words, Hordak wanted to rip his tongue from his mouth. One day soon, Horde Prime would be the one to come at his beck and call.

The two Trooper Elites lead the Horde General to a hover transport that was supposed to take him to see his brother. Of course the Velvet Glove, the ship aboard which Horde Prime lived, was nowhere near Hordeworld at the moment, so it was no surprise that Hordak soon found himself inside a telecommunications center. Briskly he marched with his two shadows towards the largest monitor in the building; only such a monitor could be allowed to portray the image of the mighty leader of the Horde. Observing decorum, the two Elites stopped immediately stopped at the door of the room, not even bothering to look inside. It was an insult most grievous to cast eyes upon Horde Prime without permission, and the soldiers were well trained in obeying their lord's peculiarities. Hordak himself moved before the giant monitor and bowed to one knee, his own face lowered to the ground.

"Hordak," called a voice that was both deep and majestic as the monitor came to life. "Arise, my general." Obediently as would the perfect servant, Hordak did so. "Where have you been Hordak? My messengers went to that apartment you claimed as your own and found you not. Why were you at the Armory?"

"I did not think you would require my services, my lord," Hordak responded. "I merely wished to get a look at some of the weapons that were being developed. I had heard there were some new chemical arms being displayed." A short, derisive laugh came from the room speakers as, aboard the Velvet Glove, Horde Prime reacted to Hordak's news. Inwardly a smile caressed Hordak as well, though for different reasons. That his brother would believe Hordak would do anything for so petty a reason was clear proof Horde Prime underestimated his general, a mistake Hordak himself would not make. "If I may be so bold, my lord, why have you summoned me into your… magnificent presence?"

"You are indeed bold Hordak," Horde Prime said in a dangerous tone, his rumbling voice sending a shiver of fear down Hordak's spine, "but I shall forgive you." The monitor nearest Horde Prime's own came to life, displaying a view of a planet from deep space. "This is the swamp planet Bundarr; a nasty little world that has proven difficult to capture."

"Fools," Hordak judgmentally stated, much to his brother's agreement.

"Fools they may be, but the indigenous population is proving far too resilient for my liking. I hereby task you with bringing this world into the Horde Empire."

"What of the Horde Commander already stationed there?" Hordak asked. A fair question; it was counterproductive to allow a power struggle on contested world. If the Bundarrins were proving as difficult as Horde Prime was saying, the Horde needed a unified front to deal with them, and that meant a smooth transition of power. That being said, Horde Prime was rarely a fair minded individual.

"HE has been dealt with, in the same manner I deal with all that displease me." At Horde Prime's words, a rather gruesome image appeared on the smaller screen, the less said about the better. "Pray you do not require a similar lesson in discipline."

"Of course not my lord," Hordak said. "I shall make ready to leave by tomorrow." With any luck that would be enough time to explain to Imp what was going on and hopefully find some way to contact the boy once he returned to Hordeworld. Though the creature had indeed improved a great deal since he had come under Hordak's tutelage, the Horde General was not yet convinced his little "project" was ready to go into a live warzone. With any luck, Imp would obey a command to stay hidden and return once Hordak did as well. Sadly such plans were not to be.

"No, you will leave this very hour," Horde Prime commanded, causing Hordak to cast him a look of surprise.

"But sir, I need time to assess the situation on the planet, to construct a force capable of handling the Bundarrins effectively."

"The Horde on Bundarr are currently without a leader, a fact they are only barely able to conceal from the rebels. I shall not permit them the hope they need to cast our forces from their world. You shall go there, and you shall send for whatever extra materials you may require." Inwardly Hordak cringed at this proclamation. He hated having to wait on Horde Supply to send him items he needed, particularly if he needed them in bulk. It was just bad strategy.

"My Lord, if I may…"

"You may not," Horde Prime countered. No one argued with the leader of the Horde, not even his own brother. "I want Bundarr conquered, Hordak, and I want it done so quickly." Recognizing this as a dismissal, Hordak stood and left, once more flanked by the two Elite Troopers, most likely to ensure he carried out his brother's orders. Though it was unrealistic to expect either of these two to stop him, he did outrank them after all; the fact that there were now witnesses with him who would report any deviation from his orders to Horde Prime was more to the point. Outwardly Hordak seethed, just as Horde Prime no doubt hoped and expected he would. Inside, his mind was looking for any way to contact Imp. He was under no illusions of what would happen. With Hordak no longer around, the little creature would no doubt become curious and begin snooping around, trying to find his absentee benefactor. Most likely such an action would get him caught, and it would be child's play for the Horde Interrogators to trace the creature back to Hordak himself… and most likely learn what Hordak had been planning to use him for. Worse yet was if Imp decided to try to strike this same deal with someone else, an act that would almost assuredly end with Hordak's plans being revealed. No, Hordak needed to find a way to contact his small student.

"Sir, I suggest we move faster, the transport for the orbital platform will be leaving soon," one of the Elite pointed out, much to Hordak's surprise. He hadn't even realized he'd slowed his pace down.

"I need to leave a message for someone," Hordak said. "An… acquaintance I had planned to meet tonight." It was a dangerous move. If Imp was back at the apartment, he would receive the message, and a small order would inspire him to destroy the communication machine so nobody else could get it. One of the perks of being the second most powerful person in the Horde was that he was one of the few people who could command a truly PRIVATE line. A soft chuckling sound emanating from the two troopers told him exactly what they thought his statement meant, a falsehood he was in no rush to correct.

"Unfortunately, I don't believe we have time to alert your… acquaintance of your impending departure," a sibilant voice said as a fourth person joined their little group, a purple lizard man wearing silver chest armor, a loincloth, and a pair of spiked gauntlets with hoses attached on his hands.

"And you are?" Hordak asked, at a loss as to why this creature had taken it upon himself to join them. Immediately the lizardman stopped and saluted, an act which caused whatever liquid was in his gauntlets to shake if Hordak's ears heard correctly.

"I am Sub-Commander Klang, from the Bundarr conquest, sir," he said strongly. By this time they had arrived at a small transport that would take them planetside spaceport they would need to catch a lift at before getting to the actual ship. Quickly Klang opened the door, beckoning for Hordak to enter first.

"'Sub-Commander?'" Hordak asked as he climbed in. "You were the second for the former Commander of the Bundarrin Horde?" Given the severity with which Horde Prime punished that man, Hordak was somewhat curious as to why this officer had been spared as well.

"Yes, and now it appears I am to be your second as well," the Hordesman answered as he followed, the two Elite's getting into the front of the vehicle. Hordak's eyebrow rose at that.

"Are you now?"

"I understand you are hesitant," Klang said, holding up his silvered hands in a gesture of surrender. "Given what has happened, I cannot blame you. But I assure you, I am far more capable than your predecessor was."

"I don't like to speak ill of the dead, or even those close to being such," Hordak said, his eyes narrowing. If Klang had thought his new commander some easily manipulated noble, he was in for a shock. "Until I have seen the situation on Bundarr myself, I won't pass judgment on the man's competence." That was about as close as anyone could get to stating the obvious about Horde Prime's famous lack of patience and understanding when it came to delays. For all Hordak knew, Bundarr might have been a legitimately difficult planet to conquer. They did not crop up often, but they did, and one could hardly fault the commander in charge for such a fact; unless of course you were Horde Prime. Klang seemed to realize this and smiled, a servile smile that, combined with his appearance, put Hordak in mind of a twin headed viper from the badlands; an animal known to be of two minds about everything.

_&What are you playing at Klang?&_ he briefly wondered.

"My apologies, Lord Hordak, I did not mean any disrespect," Klang stated. Whatever game the lizardman was playing, Hordak would have to wait to find out more as the transport soon arrived at the port. A large sub-orbital ship was being loaded with fresh supplies and equipment, obviously meant for the Bundarr campaign. From the look of things the pair had arrived just in the nick time, as they were nearly finished loading. Again Hordak wondered if there was some discreet way to send a message.

_&I'll have to trust that Imp is smart enough to lay low again while I'm gone. With any luck, he'll just think I lost interest and left, all I'll need to do is find him again… somehow.&_ he thought dejectedly as he boarded the craft, Klang right behind him.

"Hmm," the lizardman began as his snout wrinkled in distaste. "Do you smell sulfur somewhere?"

To be continued….


	3. Chapter 3

Hello, My Name is Imp

by Asher Tye

Disclaimer: I do not in anyway own Imp, Hordak, the Horde or anything related to the Masters of the Universe/Princess of Power series. This is purely a work of fiction and is being done solely for the entertainment value alone.

Caution: This story flips between two points of view so it might become a little difficult to tell when you're looking at the world through the eyes of Hordak or of Imp.

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Chapter 3

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"ARGH!!" For what felt like the umpteenth billion time since he'd arrived on Bundarr almost three weeks earlier, Hordak felt like ripping every follicle of hair from his head, an impressive feat considering he didn't actually possess such adornments.

The Bundarr invasion was a disaster, and one of epic proportions, and it was one that was in the process of driving the Horde General crazy.

Hordak had read that Bundarr was a swamp world, but until he'd actually set his foot down upon the somewhat debatable terra firma of the planet, he had not truly comprehended what that meant. Closer to its native sun than standard planets, Bundarr was a very hot world that still managed to remain cool enough to retain liquid water, which it did in abundance. The entire surface, save for a few patches of far between ground, was saturated in water, eternally soggy and muddy. Even the coldest parts of the planet never saw temperatures below eighty degrees, which made the whole place a massive hot-house, a fact the indigenous plant life had taken full advantage of. Greenery was everywhere, dipping in and out of the pockets of standing water so frequently it was almost impossible in some places to tell where one plant ended and another began. Needless to say this made it difficult for those who did not know the boggy waters to navigate them. And because the plants were so saturated with water, they were proving extremely difficult to burn away, a task Hordak had found he'd been forced to make more of a defensive measure than an offensive one as he'd hoped. The sheer number of fast growing vines, ferns, and even soft tissue trees threatened to overwhelm the extremely rare large patch of dry land the previous commander had chosen to build his Fright Zone command center on. Never before had Hordak so venomously restated his hatred for plant life in all its forms.

As annoyingly omnipresent as the plants and water were, the animals of Bundarr were proving equally up to the task of being nuisances. The endless swampy hothouse was an exothermic paradise and, as always happened when such conditions existed; insects had risen to the occasion beautifully, in a manner of speaking. This meant bugs; hundreds, upon thousands, upon MILLIONS of bugs, each equipped with the ability to sting, bite, swarm, or some variation or combination thereof. And it wasn't merely small versions of the little buggers. Though Bundarr had nothing as big as the tank-sized Terrorsects of Ranger Seven, it did have several large species of insect that, if in a group, could easily overpower an unsuspecting Hordesman… and in some cases even the on guard ones.

As he swatted at one of the small, mosquito-like variants the planet had to offer, Hordak couldn't help but think he would have preferred dealing with Terrorsects. At least those he could shoot with cannons.

Of course, the wretched terrain of this wretched planet had also had an impact on troop deployment, one that Hordak's predecessor had apparently failed to take into account when he'd come. During the trip towards Bundarr, Hordak had been quite pleased to see that, amongst the vehicles listed with the original equipment supplied to the invasion force, there had been a listing for seven siege tanks. Fond memories had come to the Horde General as he envisioned those masterful pieces of machinery, in every way to the Horde ground forces what the Velvet Glove was to their space forces, save for being cheaper to produce than Horde Prime's beloved flagship.

Three powerful engines drove thick, rugged treads over any terrain, crushing obstacles as easily as a foot could crush a paper cup. Armor protected the tank and crew that was capable of repelling anything less than heavy particle projection cannon, sub-orbital lasers, or other such high powered guns that couldn't reasonably be defended against. Its own armaments included several antipersonnel guns designed for mowing down enemy soldiers, medium lasers for dealing with fast moving enemy vehicles, and one of the aforementioned PPCs mounted on its rotating turret. As if this was not enough firepower, the siege tanks could also change their form, transforming into a stationary artillery platform sporting a rail canon capable of hitting a target almost a thousand miles away with pinpoint accuracy. All this and it even came equipped with the sensor array needed to perform all these tasks. Oh yes, Hordak had smiled as he'd seen the listing. And then he'd seen Bundarr.

The soggy surface of the planet, an eternal bog, had proven far too soft for heavy weapons to move across for any stretch of distance before they needed to find one of the dry patches of land to keep from getting stuck. What that had meant for the ultra-heavy siege tanks was that they hadn't gotten more than a yard or two away from the Horde base camp before they'd become completely mired in the swamp. All three of those fabulous engines had become completely flooded, an astonishing thing considering that there were records of siege tanks traveling completely underwater for miles without problems. Ruined too were the transformation cogs, which meant that the powerful rail guns had been rendered completely useless. As Hordak had gazed at he semi-sunken pieces of Horde tech, it had perhaps been with a sense of nature's spite that one of the many small biting insects had decided to make its first introduction to the Horde General.

Thus it was that Hordak found himself forced to rely on his somewhat meager supply of Horde skimmers. Designed to transport troops and light equipment quickly, the skimmers were hovering crafts, and thus immune to the effects of the bog, but they weren't exactly equipped with direct combat in mind. One enterprising Horde engineer had begun stripping some of the lighter weapons from the sunken siege tanks to augment the skimmers' offensive abilities. It was such a clever idea that Hordak had decided not to spoil the boy's good mood by telling him he would most likely be punished by Horde Prime for his deed. Field engineers were not supposed to be able strip down such sophisticated pieces of equipment at will and reattach them to other vehicles.

_&If we're successful, I'll throw him in a work camp for a few weeks,&_ Hordak thought to himself. _&With any luck Horde Prime will consider the matter dealt with and Phargus will get away without needing to lose any appendages.&_

"Sir!" a horde trooper cried as barged into Hordak's small command center, the specifics of the planet preventing anything grander.

"WHAT!" Hordak cried, perhaps a bit more harshly than he'd intended. The sweltering heat combined with the fact that he didn't dare removing his metallic armor with so many disease carrying insects around ready to attack exposed flesh kept him in a perpetually foul mood. It wasn't even all that smart to walk around without a helmet, actually, but the intense heat combined with Hordak's own boney head convinced the general he just couldn't do that.

"Squad six have returned. They've reported contact with the Bundarrin rebels," the trooper said, his own voice a tad harsher than was proper for a subordinate to speak to his commander. Under the circumstances, Hordak wasn't ready to get uptight about it.

"What's happened?"

"They lost a skimmer, but managed to freeze a few of the Bundarrins," the soldier responded. "The Sub-Commander is in the process of interrogating them for information as we speak."

"And this was important enough to disturb me because...?" For a few brief moments, the soldier simply stood there, unsure what to do, not at all an uncommon occurrence where the lower ranked members of the Horde were concerned. Deciding that a staring contest with this man would be an altogether TOO unproductive use of his time, Hordak decided it was best to acquiesce to whatever the trooper thought he was doing. "Very well, take me to the prisoners." So saying the general stood from his chair and followed the Hordesman out of the building. All about him, the Troopers, techs, and other members of his invasion force were milling about, attempting to complete whatever assignments they had been given under the oppressive, muggy heat. Bundarr's thrice cursed sun was slowly sinking into the western sky, heralding the coming of night and a very small, almost cruelly joking reprieve from the heat.

Soon Hordak and his guide came to another of the small structures the Horde had built within their compound, this one designed to function as a prison. Inside, iron bars indicated cells in which the captured members of the Bundarrin population were held when they were not being put to better use. A few Bundarrins were present, mainly those that could not be trusted yet to socialize with the other slaves without attempting to try a revolt. Such individuals were broken sooner or later, but the process tended to be somewhat bothersome in Hordak's opinion. Further inside the prison they came to what was passingly referred to as the interrogation room, inside of which Hordak found his Sub-Commander along with three Bundarrin prisoners.

Bundarrins were an ugly lot in Hordak's opinion, and these three were certainly no exception. Amphibious by nature and design, the creatures looked something like a cross between frogs and fish that had been granted the somewhat dubious ability to walk upright. Large, fin-like crests rested on their greenish, oblong heads, serving as rudders that helped them to steer when they were moving through the water, a skill their webbed hands and feet made them quite adept at. Bulbous eyes stuck out from their heads, while their mouths resembled jawless suckers that reminded Hordak of leeches. Skinny limbs and thin bodies gave them a gangly appearance though they were stronger than they appeared. Their skin, rather than being composed of scales like a fish, was a slimy, membranous hide coated in a generous amount of warts. If the information he'd received on their physiology was correct, one of the trio appeared to be a female, though Hordak would not have been willing to stake any sort of wager on that.

As he entered, Hordak took note that Klang had already begun attempting to coerce information from them, though he was dismayed to learn the lizardman had opted to skip straight to more drastic methods than simply asking. Presently his method included a sharp pair of scissors and the smaller of the two "male's" hand, the creature having been bound spread eagle to a wall. The sharp points of the instrument had already pierced the webbing between the hapless prisoner's fingers and the edges were poised around his center finger.

"Trust me, fishman," Klang said in a derogatory voice practically spitting the derisive name used by the Horde for the Bundarrins, "you don't want to pretend you're tough here. If you tell me what I want to know, I can almost guarantee you'll be able to live out the rest of this war whole and unmaimed."

"I'll tell you nothing, Horde scum," the Bundarrin said in the sucking, slobbery speech of a people who lacked actual jaws. Inwardly Hordak wished the Bundarrin had chosen to phrase his rejection of Klang's "generous" offer differently. Though the Horde General had no real problems with torture, he'd used it himself on any number of occasions to obtain the information he needed, there was a vast difference between what he'd done and the mean, cruel, and vicious practices Klang tended to employ. The Horde was in the business of conquering worlds in order to acquire resources, both living and otherwise, to fuel their ever expanding empire. Maimed and crippled slaves were useless to such a cause. Alas, if Hordak stopped the proceedings now, after that little show of defiance, all it would do would be to convince the Bundarrin he could say such things and get away with it.

_&Such heroic nonsense,&_ Hordak thought as the scissors closed around the digit and the Bundarrin screamed. Without even pausing, Klang moved the scissors over to the next finger.

"Wait," Hordak said softly, now free to put a halt to these gruesome proceedings. Klang looked at his commander with a questioning gaze, his gauntlet covered fingers quivering ever so slightly. While the lizard-like Hordesman had been preoccupied with enjoying the agony of his victim, who even now held tears in his eyes as he looked upon the bloody stump sitting on his hand, Hordak had watched something else. The other two Bundarrins had, predictably, struggled against their bonds as the Klang had proceeded with his forced amputation, determined to save their friend from his fate. When the screaming had started, both had stopped, their heads bowed and their eyes downcast as they refused to gaze at the comrade they had failed. Or so it had seemed. Hordak's red within red eyes had caught the furtive look the two had shot to each other, worry etched in their faces, and he had understood.

These two were a mated pair, or whatever such term passed as the equivalent for these Bundarrins.

_&Trust Klang to overlook such a fact in favor of getting to pick on the runt,&_ Horde Prime's brother thought with a snort. There was such a thing as being too enthusiastic after all. _&Now, how to play this?&_

"Lord Hordak, did you have a command?" the impatient lizard asked. Solemnly, purposefully, Hordak trod into the room properly, his footsteps even and measured to display his utter importance. He went, not to the two Bundarrins he had just identified a weakness for, but to the younger one who still hung from the wall like so many decorations. A critical eye was given to the youngster, the eye of one who knew many things about many things and had the ability to judge them all. Some of the pain and shock from losing his finger subsiding, the young one looked back at Hordak, perhaps trying to think of some suitably defiant act to perform in the presence of the supreme commander of the Bundarrin Horde. Before he could make this futile gesture however, Hordak chose that moment to speak.

"My but you're a young one," he said, an eyebrow rising as he looked the fishy creature square in the eye. "Yes, I'd say you're barely away from being an actual guppy, aren't you?" After years of dealing with countless snotty brats out to prove themselves, he knew exactly what words would push their buttons. As if on cue, this particular brat's face grew red and cross, simultaneously angry at being insulted, and humiliated he'd been called out.

"I'm old enough to fight!" came the sucking, sloppy, and indignant response. Hordak allowed himself a soft chuckle, more for this boy's benefit than anything else. More warts turned red. Oh he had hit a nerve, most definitely.

"Horde training begins at age thirteen, guppy, I'm not debating your ability to fight," Hordak snorted, "I'm debating your ability to lead." Hordak smiled a nasty derisive smile that showed off every one of his sharp teeth in his rigid, boney mouth. "I don't think you know anything; you're a grunt, told only the basics that any idiot can guess about your mission and your group…" At this point Hordak turned around to face the two other Bundarrins. "But you two, being older, probably have all sorts of information."

"Don't tell him anything!" the youth yelled before Hordak's heavy hand grabbed his sucker lips, a smile on his face. The young were so predictable these days.

"So now we've established two important facts," Hordak said, casting a grin back towards the bound youth, "there is something to know, and your friends know it." The guppy's eyes widened as he realized he'd been the one to say this. "Klang, I have no more use for this guppy," Hordak said with great finality. Now that he'd set up the scenario, he needed to remove all belief he might bluff. Responding to the commands hidden between the lines of Hordak's speech, Klang rubbed his silvery spiked gauntlet, making a vicious swipe at the bound Bundarrin. Sharp edges cut not only the shirt the creature was wearing but the flesh too, leaving a jagged scar the length of his body. The cut was not deep, a surgeon of passing skill could easily have mended it and Klang's victim might have been walking around the next day, albeit with a whole bunch of stitches. As the green liquid that coated the blades of Klang's gauntlet, courtesy of the hoses connecting them to a pack on his back, indicated, this was anything but a normal wound.

Poison, potent and lethal, had been introduced to the guppy's system. Almost immediately the stricken Bundarrin's body began to convulse, though not as harshly as a certain wingrat of which Hordak knew. Spittle began to escape his sucker; not surprising considering this particular poison, according to Klang, was a neurotoxin. Within minutes it was over, and the body hung limply from its place on the wall.

"Monster!" the male screamed, as the female stoically kept silent, this in and of itself offering information to the tyrannical general.

_&The female is the more committed, the more hardened. She'll be the more difficult one to break.&_

"Now then," Hordak began in an almost friendly voice, "let's discuss what you know of your rebel friends."

"Do what you will Hordak we will tell you nothing," the female said.

"I wasn't planning on asking you," Hordak replied as he snapped his fingers. Two Horde interrogators wheeled in a large table that looked suspiciously like a tanning bed. "I am well aware of your species prodigious ability to regenerate lost limbs, so we'll forgo any attempts to cut the information from you," he continued as the female Bundarrin was strapped to the table. "Tell me, though, are you familiar with a dry, dry little desert world called Mojave?" Hordak smiled.

& & & & & & & & & &

It was only a few minutes later that Hordak stepped out of the prison, the sound of wailing in the background, very confident that soon he would know everything his new guests knew about their rebel friends. Once more the oppressive heat hit the Horde General, and he found himself renewing his private wish to leave this miserable world.

"Lord Hordak," came a gruff voice and Hordak turned to see his resident field commander Octavia. Born of the ocean world of Octopon, Octavia's natural physiology made her and her people natural choices for this mission, a fact that had caused Hordak to commandeer her services from a space fleet that was using her for patrols. The Admiral had not been pleased with Hordak's outright theft of his minions, but as neither Octavia nor Hordak had been pleased with this apparent squandering of the octopons' abilities, there was little he could do. Horde Prime was not known to forgive being bothered for petty squabbling amongst his servants.

"What is it Octavia?" Hordak asked, again a little more gruffly than he probably would have wanted to, though in this case it was somewhat justified. Octavia stood before him, her green skin and red hair visible thanks to a Horde uniform that left her arms, legs, and even shoulders bare. Her skin was naturally coated in a slime residue that not only deterred Bundarr's insectoid inhabitants from trying to make a meal of her, it also kept said insects from clouding about her by acting as a repellant. Thus it was that the Octopons were also amongst the most "popular" troops in Hordak's army, since being in their presence meant relief from the constant insect irritation.

As he gazed at the Horde naval officer, Hordak couldn't help but feel an intense jealously well up in his gut.

"I came to inform you that the rebels have seeded more of the underwater passages with their red tide water. We're going to need get more chemicals to purify the water with if you expect my forces to be able to use those tunnels again." Hordak scowled. He was familiar with red tide, algae in such great quantities that they literally choked the waters in toxins and waste products. The Bundarrins used the cursed plants, against whose detrimental effects they were mostly immune, as a last ditch guardian against Horde pursuit. On the one hand, Hordak admired such a ruthless tactic, as this could easily spread the deadly algae all over the planet's waterways and cause untold of harm to their own planet. On the other, the red tide was just one more way this planet had to slow the Horde's conquest down.

"We're running low on the chemicals needed," he informed Octavia. "I don't want to have to use any of our remaining supply on passages that lead nowhere. Is there anyway to find out how important these passages are?"

"Not without sonar scanners, and the rebels keep destroying the portable ones. And the bigger ones just aren't up to the task of dealing with Bundarr."

"Like everything else around here," Hordak growled through gritted teeth. "Use the chemicals, clear away the tide, but I want something to come out of this Octavia. I don't care if it's the scrawniest group of slaves ever seen, I want something to come out of this or ELSE!!"

"I'll do my best, Lord Hordak," the octopon said with a hard edge to her voice. Though she did not like being threatened, there was little she could do about it given not only that Hordak was her superior officer, but he was also much more powerful than she. Thus it was that she would most likely take out her frustration on any rebels she happened to come across as she worked to clear the passages. Bowing very slightly, Hordak's Field Commander left. Huffing gruffly, Hordak too turned on his heel, making way for his quarters. The day was almost over, and he still had work to do if the Horde was going to engage the Bundarrin resistance the next day.

His quarters were nowhere near as grand as he was used to, thanks in no small part to the limited amount of work that could be done completing this Horde city and turning it into a proper Fright Zone. It was little more than a three roomed hut made of iron and concrete, but it did have the bonus of being one of the only fully climate controlled structures in this compound.

As cooled, dry air struck his face; Hordak breathed a sigh of relief, released from the oppressive temperatures outside. A servant had brought his evening repast, which sat under a silver covering at his table, and next to it, a computer pad, no doubt holding all the documents he needed to look over before he took his slumber. It was a difficult decision; eat now or get the final parts of his day done, a decision made all the more difficult by the fact that he looked forward to neither. The smell that wafted up to his nostrils as he lifted the silver covering reminded him vehemently why.

To his credit, the cook had done the best he could. He had seasoned and cooked, and decorated this food with every trick he'd probably known, and even a few he might have created himself just from being here, but there was no way to disguise the fact that these were Horde field rations at best. Bundarr's ecosystem promoted the growth of every type of mold, bacteria, and other disgusting decomposer known to ruin all but the best preserved foods. There was a massive and ever growing refuse pile at the other end of this… "Fright Zone" wherein literally tons of previously edible food had been dumped as the harsh climate swiftly turned them to nothing more than spore farms for fungi. Thus the Horde forces had been forced to subsist on the most heavily preserved foods brought with them, or try their hand at living off the bounty of the liquid land. As he thought about some of the animals and vegetables he'd seen in that area that had been able at survive this Fright Zone's negative impact on the environment, Hordak decided the rations were better.

_&And even those are beginning to dry up,&_ the irritated Horde General thought. _&Those supply ships better make it here on time, or I'll use their captains for target practice. I've had enough roughing it against hostile alien forces.&_

As he sat down, a fork in one hand and the computer pad in the other, a knock sounded at his door, indicating someone desired to invade his privacy.

"Enter," he commanded, keeping his eyes on the door and his hands at the ready for a fight. Twice now Bundarrins had successfully infiltrated the Fright Zone in an attempt to assassinate the Horde Commander and, though the would-be assassins were dealt with easily and those responsible had been punished severely, Hordak still found such exercises annoying. As it turned out, it was not a Bundarrin assailant, but the quartermaster. Immediately the Hordesman saluted his commander, careful not to drop the clipboard. His weapon was missing from his side, a precaution against him doing anything overly stupid if he got into a rebellious mood. "Can't you see I'm trying to eat? What is it?"

"Sir, I wanted to let you know the modifications on the skimmers have been completed. They should be ready for tomorrow's attack."

"And the batniks? I would much prefer not to enter this combat without some form of air support. Evil knows the Bundarrins have plenty of water support."

"The batniks are ready but they can only take off a few at a time. Space on the airfield is limited as you know." At this Hordak grimaced.

"Is there anything we have that HASN'T been limited?!"

"Dysentery…?" the quartermaster asked, causing Hordak's crimson eyes to narrow. If he was trying to be humorous, he was striking a very bad chord with his overlord.

"Were I not so tired, Hordesman, I would blast you into atoms for saying such a thing."

"My apologies Mighty One, I…"

"Skip the platitudes; what else do you have to report…. And make it snappy!"

"Yes… The toxicity levels of the Fright Zone and the surrounding area… have remained unchanged since your arrival…" At this point the quartermaster held up his clipboard, perhaps hoping the flimsy wood would protect him from Hordak's wrath.

"WHAT?!" Hordak bellowed. It had long been the policy of the evil Horde to wage a direct assault not only on the people of the planets they were conquering, but on their very environment itself. Fright Zones were exceptionally bad for whatever neighborhood they were erected in, killing plants, despoiling the water and soil, and fouling the air until the surrounding area was as much like Hordeworld as possible. The reason for this was two-fold, three if you counted Horde Prime's sadistic sense of joy. The sight of their world being so ruthlessly and swiftly destroyed was a terrific way to demoralize the local population; an abject lesson in the power of the Horde. It also gave the Hordesmen the home field advantage in the unlikely, but still viable, event that they had to fight a defensive war. Even a Fright Zone of this size and lack of completion should have been able to transform this wretched, thriving swamp into a toxic wasteland.

"I have sent the data to the Horde's best scientists for analysis, but…"

"WHAT!?" Hordak raged. "How dare you do something like that?! And without my permission no less."

"I just thought…"

"Thought what? That Horde Command should be informed that we not only aren't able to defeat the Bundarrins, but that we've made a substandard Fright Zone as well?! Need I remind you that all of our necks are in nooses at this point? If Horde Prime believes we aren't capable of handling this invasion, he'll slaughter us all!"

"I… I did not think my lord," the quartermaster said.

"Get out, get out of my sight," Hordak yelled. "I don't want to see you again until tomorrow's battle." To punctuate this command, the Horde General's arm transformed into a cannon. Noting his imminent peril, the Quartermaster's eyes grew wide and he ran. "And tell all others I do not wish to be disturbed!" Hordak bellowed after him, firing a blind shot out through the open door that managed not to hit anyone. Confident his wishes would be obeyed, Hordak sat back down to ponder this new mystery. What in the universe could hold back the toxic effects of a Fright Zone?

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As night settled over the Fright Zone, and the Horde Troopers began to set up for their patrols to keep the Bundarrins from sneaking up on them, someone else was beginning to stir.

Had Hordak's mind not been so cluttered with the myriad of problems his new command had presented him with, he might have remembered that he alone knew of something that could not only hold the toxic poisons of the Fright Zone at bay, but would thrive on such an activity. Of course this would have left the Horde General pondering just how he was accomplishing such a task.

Inside the cockpit of one of the sunken siege tanks Imp, registering the sinking of the sun by some ancient instinct all nocturnal creatures seemed to possess, woke up, stretching his small, pudgy body to banish the last traces of sleep. Suddenly, a look came to his face as he reached a hand up to his shirt collar and pulled it open, looking down at his blue chest. A look of delighted surprise came over him as he reached down and pulled free a fat leech he promptly dropped into his mouth, swallowing it loudly with a satisfied grin. Other leeches lay near him, all dead after having made the fatal mistake of trying to drink of his poisonous blood. Present too were a pillow and blanket, pilfered from the Horde Supply Shed for his own use. Unlike the nest he'd had back on Hordeworld, however, there were no toys present, no he could amuse himself with, save for the controls to the powerless siege tank, and Imp was not stupid enough to give himself a way in such a way. This was not actually a problem, as the planet Bundarr was providing all the entertainment the little demon boy could handle.

Unlike Hordak, who found the wet mire and slime somewhat less than habitable to be in, Imp was loving every minute of being in the swamp. The noxious fumes and rampant decay suited the little imp quite well, and for the life of him he couldn't understand why the Horde Troopers complained so much about the rampant bug life, most of which tended to leave the little interloper alone.

Slowly Imp opened the hatch of the siege tank that led outside, poking his piggish snout out from under it just enough to allow his yellow eyes to take a look. The familiar figures of Horde Troopers standing guard around the perimeter of the base greeted him, and, just as Hordak himself had taught him, Imp quickly took stock of where they were looking. Imp's coloration allowed him to take advantage of the murky darkness of the swamp, but he was still not all that keen about someone accidentally mistaking him for a native and shooting. Once satisfied that no one was looking in his general direction, the implet slipped quietly out of his nest and down the slick side of the tank, his wings folded tightly against his back. As his snout entered the water, heedless of the pipeline that was dumping gallons of a thick greenish brown sludge into the water, he underwent a transformation, becoming a serpent. The cool, toxic water felt so good on this hot night, scaled lips lifted in a smile as Imp moved carefully around the edge of dry land the Horde had set itself up on. Though he wore the form of a serpent, the boy had lost none of his normal senses and yellow eyes cast about into the trees where had been set up more surveillance equipment.

_&Place is a fortress,&_ he thought, the same thought he'd had every night since he'd stowed away on Hordak's transport. He'd yet to reveal himself to Hordak though. Given how they'd parted company on Hordeworld, and the fact that Hordak had apparently made no attempt to contact him after they'd made that deal, had gotten the boy questioning whether or not the tyrant lord had lost interest in him. It had been sheerest impulse that had led the boy to stow away on the transport, and then on the cruiser that had taken them here. And Hordak had made no move to contact him, even if it would have been somewhat impossible.

Children's minds don't often consider such trivialities as feasibility when they think of what should happen, and for a boy who was at his base a selfish person like Imp, this was doubly true. And, truth be told, it hurt that Hordak could be so willing to sing Imp's praises, call him a special creature, give him special treatment, and then so casually discard him. And so, as the ship had landed, he'd decided to strike out on his own, prove that the severing of their relationship had been Hordak's loss, not his.

Only he hadn't left.

He'd fully intended to, of course. To disappear into the endless swamp of this world, live amongst the muck and mire and slime that felt so nice had been his plan. But instead, he'd slipped into the siege tank and had been living there ever since. Were he more disposed to internal soul searching, Imp might have wondered what was keeping him here if he was no longer interested in getting Hordak's attention, but of course this was not the case.

Slowly the imp/snake slithered up onto dry land, careful to avoid the sights of the guards. Having never been exposed to snakes before, Imp was currently mimicking one of the specimens found in the swamp itself, a poisonous kind that had taken the lives of quite a few unwary Horde Troopers. Hence why they tended to shoot first and dump bodies into the water. Gathering his coils about himself tightly, Imp shifted back into his proper form, flying swiftly and quietly through the night to the giant garbage pile wherein the cook had dumped the food that had been spoiled by the damp and hot atmosphere, as well as the leftovers judged too worthless even for the slaves. Crawling into a fetid pile of refuse, Imp greedily began to eat, taking great pleasure in a green ham that lay half buried.

As he rooted around, digging out the rancid piece of meat, voices suddenly came to his bat like ears. His time on the street as well as Hordak's training made it almost an automatic reaction for him to shimmy further into the pile, hiding himself from the interlopers.

"Klang," a voice whined as a Horde Trooper wearing the markings of a Quartermaster walked up to the pile, doing his best to cover the air intake of his helmet, "why exactly did we have to meet in such a place as this? My nose feels like it is about to fall off."

"Because, you little weakling, I'm not all that keen on someone finding out about this meeting, and this place seems the least likely for us to be… interrupted," the same lizardman Imp had seen in the Horde Armory said, Klang if he remembered correctly. "Is it ready?"

"I have prepared the skimmers just as you requested Klang, but…"

"But me no buts Quartermaster," Klang said irritably. "This will be a glorious battle."

"Yes but for whose side? Hordak never gave you permission to make these modifications..."

"Hordak is a non-issue as far as I am concerned." At Klang's words, Imp's eyes widened as he knelt further into the refuse pile to conceal himself. "Our foolish former commander lacked the vision needed to make this invasion work, and Hordak is only barely holding on now."

"Do you know what could happen to you if someone heard you talking like that Klang?"

"Nothing if everything goes like I hope tomorrow," the snakeman said. "Now get some sleep, I'll need your help tomorrow, and I won't be interesting in any excuses." So saying Klang and the Quartermaster parted company. As they left, Imp's head emerged from the refuse pile. From the sounds of those two's conversation, there was going to be a battle tomorrow, one Klang expected to win easily. A grin came to Imp's face. He'd seen fighting before while he'd been living on Hordeworld. Though the general population was completely under the thumb of the Horde military, that didn't mean said population was always able to get along well internally. Too many people crowded into one place, especially in a culture that tended to reward the more aggressive and violent of its members, meant there were always fights breaking out.

But, as far as battles went, Imp had never seen an actual one in all his short life. Oh the Horde news network was forever playing recordings of Horde victories in the field to be sure. These were cut up clips of battles, edited to show the military as an unbeatable and invincible fighting force. Imp had watched those videos when he could, and he was enthralled. It was like watching a million fights going on all at once. Somewhere deep inside the boy, a feral desire to see battle.

&So what do I do?& he asked himself. Imp had been planning to spend the night in the shape of a fish or other aquatic animal and continue his exploration of the underwater caves that honeycombed the planet, maybe even find some more of those tasty eggs that were always surrounded by the red tinted water. But now…

If he wanted to watch the battle, get a good seat for the show as it were, he couldn't stay up all night. A big part of the reason he hadn't seen much of Hordak's attempts to conquer this world was because he tended to be asleep. His wings beginning to flap, Imp made his choice.

& & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

"Batniks, release your torpedoes," Hordak yelled into the console of the Skimmer he rode upon. Above him, a squadron of five bat shaped fighter planes released silvery tubes into the water, mere feet ahead of their Horde comrades. Once in the water, the torpedoes raced towards the fortified Bundarrin camp. Though two were taken out by the tangled roots of the indigenous water plants, the remaining three struck home. Though the Bundarrin resistance was well suited to their environment, they were nowhere near as disciplined as the Horde Troopers. The fish-like creatures dove for the perceived safety of the water as the explosive projectiles slammed into the walls of their semi-submerged fortifications. "Troopers!!" Hordak called, summoning forth a hail of laserfire from the assembled skimmers, as well as the little two man jet skis that sat on the surface of the water. A grunt of approval came from the general as he watched the body count rise; rebels fought bravely for their causes, but that didn't mean they were fearless.

"Sir, incoming bogie!" the trooper monitoring sonar yelled. As if on cue, one of the precious skimmers in Hordak's ramshackle fleet rocked as it was struck by a Bundarrin warrior. A small wake could be seen racing away from the damaged craft, a clear sign of the presence of one of those wretched nose-divers. The Horde had long ago learned they didn't have a monopoly on good ideas when it came to technology. This wasn't to say their military hardware was not top notch, but generals were always on the lookout for new toys to play with, and the one man subwater vehicles the Bundarrins used to harass his troops had caught Hordak's eyes. Those same eyes, enhanced in vision thanks to the nanites in his blood, scowled as he saw beneath the surface of the water. The clunky aquatic equipment the Horde Troopers were forced to use made them no match for the swifter and better armed nose-diver as it zipped through their ranks, and the sharp tipped spears fired from their guns merely bounced off the armor that protected the fishy pilot.

"Fire depth charges," Hordak called as several explosive canisters no bigger than grenades were thrown over the side of the skimmer and sank in the water. Bundarrin vision was not very good and, with any luck, the pilot wouldn't notice one of the charges and it would catch him. No longer able to give his exclusive attention to this endeavor, Hordak once more turned back to the battle at hand.

& & & & & & & & &

From his vantage point aboard his own skimmer, Klang watched as Hordak's ship tossed the explosives, no doubt to destroy a nose-diver. The lizardman shook his head in disbelief, not only for how poorly the Bundarrins used their only real advantage against the Horde, but for how poorly Hordak was able to defend against them.

"Were I in charge, these rotten fish would be fried in nothing flat," he mumbled to himself, careful to make sure none of his subordinates heard what essentially was treason coming from his mouth.

"For Bundarr!" screamed a voice a native fighter leapt up onto Klang's skimmer, waving a cutlass as he charged at the Horde sub-commander in what he no doubt thought to be a heroic charge. Though defeating this delusional freedom fighter would have been child's play for someone such as Klang, it was also unnecessary as the highly trained Hordesmen who stood with him opened fire and fairly obliterated his attacker. The force of the combined laser blasts were enough to send the native flying back over the side of the boat and into the water below.

"Fool," Klang spat.

"Sir, squad eight is encountering some heavy resistance," a Horde Trooper told his leader.

"From what, these bubble-heads couldn't fight their way out of paper bags?" Klang responded.

"Squad leader says they've managed to dig themselves in with what appear to be stolen Horde squid mines." Immediately Klang's back went rigid.

"Contact Hordak, we'll request to send in two skimmers. With any luck they can remotely detonate those mines without risking any of our troopers."

"Yes sir," the Trooper obeyed as he entered in the appropriate commands.

"What is it?" came the grumpy, snorting voice of Hordak.

"Sir, request permission to send two of our skimmers to clear out a rebel entrenchment."

"Oh for the love of… Permission granted Klang, now don't bother me unless it's something important. You're my second, use your own judgment you supercilious snake." Klang's scales bristled at that comment.

_&Oh just you wait you arrogant…&_

"As you command, Lord Hordak." The communications channel was closed. "Hordesman, radio skimmers two and seven, direct them to the squad's location."

"Yes sir."

& & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

"Man, who would have thought a real battle would be so… boring," Imp complained to himself as he sat in the relative safety of a tree, well away from where the actual battle was taking place. He'd stowed away aboard one of the skimmers in order to get a free ride out here, and then promptly hidden himself in safety. Curious he was, but not a fool. And yet, as he watched the larger skimmers and their smaller jet skis move over the surface of the water, only occasionally meeting up with some of the Bundarrins who were willing to fight them at the water's surface, he couldn't help but feel this was a colossal waste of time.

"Where's all the shooting, the fighting, the battle?" the mini-demon asked of no one in particular, not overly realizing that most of the action was taking place under the water where, in his current form and vantage point, he couldn't see it. What he could see, however, was Hordak, standing aboard his skimmer, looking very angry about something as he looked down into the water.

_&Serves him right,&_ the petulant boy thought, still just a little upset over Hordak's apparent abandonment of him back on Hordeworld. That was when the little demon's eyes finally cast about the seemingly still water… only to see that it wasn't so still. Something, three somethings in fact, were racing towards the flotilla, and leaving small wakes in the watery plain. Two of the streaks split off, heading for different targets, but the third continued straight for a few more feet before disappearing as its creator dove deeper into the water. Curious now, Imp spread his wings and began to fly; leaving his hiding spot though he remained in the shadows cast by the dense vegetation.

& & & & & & & & & & & & &

"Blast it you fools, don't let them get under you!" Hordak bellowed as he watched his aquatroopers beneath the surface of the water getting out-maneuvered by the Bundarrins. Though they were by no means being beaten, the Bundarrins simply did not have the same overwhelming power the Horde had, they were taking more losses than were necessary, a dangerous theme considering Hordak did not have the resources to spare.

"Sir, Octavia says she and her squad has taken the fortress," a comm-trooper announced.

"Finally, some good news," Hordak grunted. "Tell her to disrupt whatever remote defenses these fish people have here. And see if she can't get an inactive sample of that Red Water of theirs."

"As you command sir."

"HORDAK!!" came a defiant yell as a huge shadow suddenly appeared in the water, indicating something very big was there as well. All the skimmers suddenly began to rock as a massive deep green beast arose from the depths, a Bundarrin wearing a now soaked body wrap and a circlet on his head. "I will not allow you to take our land from us!" he howled in indignation. "The Horde has no claim to our world! Leave now or be destroyed." A tentacle, the same color as the beast it was attached to, rose out of the water and wrapped itself around one of the skimmers, crushing the light craft like a tin can.

"All units, open fire!" Hordak commanded as the guns of his ships were trained on the monster. "Kill that creature. Take the rider alive if you can." Blasts from the lasers shot forward and, much to the Horde General's dismay, did little damaged against the tough, rubbery skin of the beast. There were burn marks to be sure, but if the watery monster was hurt by them, he showed no signs.

"It will take more than that to hurt a garlak, Hordak," the circlet wearing Bundarrin taunted as he drew a laser rifle that looked like it had been pilfered from the Horde's own supply. Though his movements said he was unfamiliar with the weapon, the Bundarrin's current position gave him a great deal of advantage over his opponents.

Laser fire rained down from the beast as the Bundarrin began a one fishman assault on the Horde surface forces.

"Klang!" Hordak yelled, pointing at the monstrosity that was attacking him. "Take out that monster at all costs!!"

& & & & & & &

"Take out that monster at all costs!!" yelled Hordak's voice over the speakers of Klang's skimmer. A smile came to the reptile's face as he began waving the skimmers of his flotilla to surround the monster-beast, trying to keep it from selecting a good target.

"Sir, since our lasers have little effect individually, it might be a better idea to concentrate our fire…"

"If I wanted your opinion, peon, I would have given it to you," Klang said as he stabbed the hapless Trooper who had spoken out of turn. "We're doing this my way."

_&And then I can proceed with my plans.&_

"Inform Lord Hordak that we're going to confuse the beast. A mount that big, its rider can't possibly keep it under control AND fire upon us."

& & & & & & &

Hordak's eyes narrowed as he watched the reckless moves his Sub-Commander was making. It would have been an excellent stratagem, if they'd had enough skimmers to actually work it. As it stood, the only reason the tentacled beast wasn't destroying the Horde craft attacking it was because its rider was too afraid to commit to such an action, no doubt envisioning the Horde had some horrific reason for doing such a foolish trick.

_&A stupid bluff, backed only by the fact that we're the most fearsome fighting force in the galaxy,&_ Hordak thought, _&this is what I am reduced to.&_ The general cast a careful eye back to the rear of his own ship where, unbeknownst to most of his forces, save his own crew, he'd had one of the heavy weapons from the Siege Tanks installed. It was cumbersome, made his own craft slower and more power-consuming than most, but it was an unforeseen advantage where his enemy was concerned. And for a man who favored power and cunning to speed and stealth that was the appeal.

"Prepare to fire the PPC," he told his gun crew, each of whom saluted to him. Slowly the Skimmer's engine was prepped, its power output rerouted towards the cannon. It was at that point that four of the stoutest Horde Troopers under Hordak's command slide their hands under the cannon's barrel, ready to lift and aim it, a precarious job considering they could easily be vaporized by the exiting pulse of energy. Still, as any trooper will tell you, a mere chance at death easily defeated its certainty, which would be the punishment for disobeying orders. With a heave and grunt, the Troopers hefted the barrel, aiming it as best they could at the monster's body.

Behind them, at the controls of the cannon, a Horde tech was fighting the control panel as he worked to get the cannon to fire.

"Any day now," one of the lifters called irritably back to the technician. The barrel began to take on a blue glow to it as the energy pulse began to build.

"Keep it steady," the technician howled back, watching as the cannon's computer was finding it near impossible to get a lock on its target. With a thunderous roar, a bright blue sphere of energy surged forward from the PPC and launched towards the octopus like creature. The rider's eyes widened in fear as he saw blue death rising up for him, only to be deafened by the howl of pain of his mount. The blast from the PPC had not hit its mark, but it had managed to pass close enough to the creature that much of the rubbery skin on the side of its body was burned away.

"You idiots," Hordak yelled. "How could you miss at this range?!"

"We're sorry sir," the lifters said. "The cannon just got too hot and we..."

"I don't want to hear it," Hordak yelled as he saw the monster's attention now come to focus on his own ship, an enemy that had been identified as capable of hurting it. "Get the cannon ready to fire again."

"It will take a few moments sir," the technician yelled. Hordak gazed up at the three large tentacles that were beginning to descend upon his craft.

"You have seconds," he said as his arm transformed into a cannon of his own and he began to shoot at the tentacles, valiantly trying to keep the beast from crushing his boat. More lasers joined him as the crewman also worked to protect their craft. "Spread your fire out! Don't bother trying to blow off one tentacle or the other two will get through!"

& & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

Klang had watched the particle projection cannon fire its shot, most amazed Hordak had managed to get his little toy running. The lizardman had not believed that the skimmer had enough energy to successfully power such a weapon. And now Hordak was apparently trying to for a second shot as the squid-like beast closed in on his craft.

"Klang, use your weapons to draw the monster's attention off of Lord Hordak," Octavia said from the water below. Klang frowned at the aquatic woman.

"And have him attack my ship as well?" Klang called back. "Hordak can at least defend himself with that cannon, if that thing attacked us…"

"ARRGH! Cowardly male," Octavia said as she dove back under the water, no doubt to try and keep the rest of the creature from being brought to bear. A nasty smile crossed Klang's face as he stroked a small bulge in one of his pockets.

_&Insolent witch… you shall be the first I deal with once I assume command of the Horde.&_ A new blue light began to build aboard Hordak's skimmer, drawing Klang's eyes away as he waited for his chance.

& & & & & & & & & & & & & & &

"Sir, we're ready to fire," the tech called as the PPC began to glow and the Horde strongmen lifted it once more.

"What are you waiting for you buffoon, FIRE!" Once more a blast of blue light exploded from the barrel. This time the blast found its mark, tearing into the side of the giant monster and ripping away various pieces of its anatomy. The creature sounded a howl of agony as its remaining tentacles waved in terror, its body swaying left and right, back and forth as its viscera fell from its wound. The blast of the cannon had also managed to catch the rider's arm, and the Bundarrin too howled in pain and terror as he lost control of his mount. Immediately Hordak's eyes widened as he saw which way the monster was getting ready to topple.

"Get the power back to the skimmer," he commanded. "Get us out of here before we're crushed."

"I'm trying sir, but the system's already taxed thanks to having to fire the gun twice," the technician lamented as the console before him sparked and smoked. Despite the danger the technician continued to work the controls, trying to reverse the previous rerouting of the power he had done. Suddenly he looked up. "Sir, the power couplings are failing…"

"Well, override them!" Hordak commanded.

"I'm trying, but we're suffering a cascade… AHH!" This was the last sound the technician made as the console exploded, showering him with metal and fire. The skimmer began to shake violently as below its deck similar explosions were also occurring. Hordak cast a glance up at the octopoid monster, a mound of flesh that whose death throws were nearly at an end.

"Abandon ship," Hordak ordered, knowing full well the craft was no longer able to be saved. All around him Horde Troopers moved to escape certain death, ready to take their chances in the waters below where their comrades could rescue them. Hordak possessed a far more reliable way to escape certain destruction, and pressed the button at his belt-buckle that would teleport him to his secondary command craft.

& & & & & & & & &

The smile on his face never fading, Klang watched the dying craft begin its own convulsions, rocked by the explosions taking place aboard it. Reptilian eyes could make out the shape of Hordak as he moved to a safe spot on the ship, knowing full well what the Horde General intended to do. Reaching into one of the pouches on his waist, careful not to knick himself with his own deadly blades, Klang pulled forth a small one button remote.

_&Let's see if that fool Quartermaster got this right,&_ was all the lizardman thought as he pushed the button.

& & & & & & & & & &

Hordak pushed the teleport button, preparing himself for the semi-unpleasant feeling of dematerialization that would soon follow. Rather than the sensation of being converted into energy for instantaneous transport, however, a different sensation filled him. Immediately it felt as if he'd just become heavier as his muscles locked hard, a clear signal something was most definitely wrong. Had his transport module been damaged somehow during the battle? Fear gripped the general as he struggled to move his limbs, knowing full well that if he succumbed to that fear he was a dead man.

Slowly, his limbs feeling as though they weighed a ton each, Hordak tried to move towards the side of the skimmer. The rumbling of the explosions, however, proved enough to throw the overlord off his feet. His teeth gritting in determination, Hordak crawled, hand over hand. Nothing else mattered but survival now, he'd deal with anyone who chose to make light of his humiliation…

_&Come on Hordak, move, move,&_ he berated himself. _&I am not going to die in this miserable place.&_

"ROOOOOOR!!" came the final screams of the monster as its broken body made contact with the skimmer. Hordak's eyes widened as a thick tentacle came toppling down upon him, pinning his body to the deck of the craft…

& & & & &

For a few brief moments, all within the swamp was silent.

Then the deafening roar of several loud explosions could be heard, sounding off like a massive salute to the passing of some great warrior, after which, silence once more prevailed.

And, if one's ears were good enough, one might also be able to hear the soft sound of a lizard chuckling…

To be continued…


End file.
